MIA
by christique
Summary: Max has been recaptured, and it doesn't look like she even wants to escape. Has Terminal City lost its leader forever? Will the gang in Seattle ever see their friend again?...aiming at MA...and skeletons in Manticore closets...
1. Designation X5 452

**_Disclaimer:_** **None of these characters are mine. Period.**  
**_Story: _**The story is set in the days following the creation of Terminal City. TC has been getting to its shaky feet for about half a year, and the city is finally starting to function when Max is recaptured by Manticore...  
**_Author's Note: _**This is my _first ever_ fic, so please don't be too hard on me! But don't be afraid to let me know what you think. Also, if I happened to use any taken designations, please let me know. I'd appreciate it.

---This is an edited chapter! Thanks foryour advice! I took it, as you can see. I agree that it makes it a ton easier to read... _

* * *

A young woman was running through the woods, running without a thought. She was desperate, and all she knew was that she had to escape._

Escape? From what?

_She had to get away before they turned her, before she could… could what? Lord, but her mind was so foggy. Fear and adrenaline clouded her thoughts to the point where she could no longer think, but only focus on reaching safety._

And where exactly is safety?

_Anywhere but where she was. That was where she would find safety. Her heightened senses alerted her that someone was running after her. Actually, there were several people chasing her. She didn't bother to consider that maybe they were running _with_ her, because she knew she was alone in this. She was so utterly alone that it left no doubts that any person nearby for miles was considered the enemy._

Has it always been like this?

_That was a quiet voice inside, one that she didn't have the time to consider._

Escape. I have to escape. I have to find safety!

_Her heart was beating nearly out of her chest, she was breathing so hard and running with such desperation. But no time to consider stopping, especially not now that she could faintly see a chain-link fence topped with barbed wire far off. There it was! The exit point! She was so close! But the people following her were gaining quickly, and pretty soon she saw gruff faces painted in camouflage surrounding her. The leader of the pack caught up to her just as she was about to reach the fence. So close!_

Have to make it over! _she thought with desperation._

_She was panicking when she saw the man pull out a gun, and the rest tasers. The big man took aim at her, and she leapt up, reaching for the top of the fence that she knew would lead her to freedom. Just as she was about to pull up her legs to make it over the fence completely, a tranquilizing bullet hit the back of her neck, and she felt woozy, plummeting to the ground limply, the last shred of her hopes crushed._

NOOOOO!

* * *

X5-452 woke up in a sweat. These nightmares seemed to come every single night, and they disrupted her sleep in a very disturbing way. Emotions weren't widely discussed at Manticore, but she didn't think she was scared of them, just… uneasy. They worried her, as much as anything should worry a soldier. That was what she was. She was a cold-blooded, genetically designed killing machine, enhanced with special abilities normal people could never dream of having. She was tall and slender with a model's figure and all the right curves. Long dark hair spilled just past her chest, and she looked around her with large, liquid eyes the color of dark chocolate. In a word, she was stunning. She was breathtaking. That was how she was made, genetically altered to be physically perfect in every way, just like all the other soldiers in the X5 series. But looks didn't matter to her right now. 

452 was sitting in gray military-issue pajamas, in a gray military-issue bed pad (which was not very comfortable), in a gray military-issue cell. Such was life at Manticore: dull, gray, and meant to keep one-track minds on duty. All of the cells were exactly the same, and all of the people occupying them were expected to behave in exactly the same way.

She attempted to distract her mind from the disturbing… feelings… left behind from the nightmare with thoughts of her morning's busy schedule. 452 dressed quickly in her uniform with gray sweats on underneath and prepared for roll call and the morning running exercises. Once she was outside with the others, she found her place in line with the rest of the X5s and waited for the training officers, standing silent and stone-still. The officers arrived and started roll call in a very formal manner.

"482!"

"Sir!"

"537!"

"Sir!" and so on.

"452!"

"Sir!" she answered promptly, saluting the officers with a fierce, stony expression.

The officer stopped in front of her, and said a little quieter, "452, I expect improvement from yesterday. I can't allow you to continue at the rate you are going. In order to catch up on your lost training, you will _lead_ the pack in the running exercises, and if you let anyone pass you, you will receive extra tomorrow, in addition to your extra tactics and hand-to-hand, do I make myself clear?"

_Crystal,_ she thought with a nasty taste in her mouth, but she stared straight ahead and replied, "Yes, Sir!"

"Good. Okay, X5s, today you will be doing extreme suicides. They will go as follows: 5 miles, 10 miles, 15 miles, and finally 20 miles. Got it? 5, 10, 15, 20. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir!" came the unison reply.

"Alright. You will all try to be first to the finish, and you will be led by 452. You are encouraged to pass her at any time. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Excellent. Now, get to your places!" Everyone complied, and 452 knew this wasn't going to be easy.

* * *

At lunch break, 452 sat at a table with a few other X5s she didn't really know. They were more relaxed now that they weren't with the officers, and so they tried to make conversation. "452, nice try this morning. You did well, until that other group started gaining on you. I thought you might not get assigned extra training, because it turned out that only three got past you out of twenty-four, but I guess Sarge wasn't having a good day." 

_Is he trying to cheer me up?_ she thought incredulously. She decided he needed to work on that particular skill. She kept eating quickly, not because the food was good, but because she knew that she would need the extra energy tomorrow as well as tonight.

The other one tried now. "You were faster than you were yesterday, at least." _Tch, yeah, til I busted a lung,_ she thought bitterly. Bitterness was supposed to be foreign here, and yet she was licking her wounded ego. It felt distant, but strangely… comfortable, right… It stirred something inside of her for a fraction of a second, like a spark from another life. _Was there ever a life outside of Manticore?_ But then, like a candle blown out, it was gone, though that fleeting thought still remained. It was new and troublesome, it opened many scary possibilities, and that must have registered on her face, because the other X5s stared at her.

"452? You OK?" She shook her head quickly as if to rid her head of all treasonous thoughts.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks. I think I'll head back to my cell now. See you in tactics." With that, she left the table and deposited her tray on the cleaning belt, quickly made for her cell, and hoped it would be empty so she could clear her head.

* * *

When 452 reached her cell, she was disappointed to find that her cellmate, X5-493, had returned after lunch and was reading a book on military tactics. She suppressed a sigh. "Studying for class?" 

"Yep. I'd rather not get extra homework like some others have been," he said casually without looking up from his book. 493 was not really trying to get a dig on her, since he didn't know that she had probably gotten the most extra work out of anyone, but it stung nonetheless to hear those words.

She managed to laugh weakly. "Ha, yeah, I guess that's a good idea." With anyone else, or almost anyone, she would have been offended and would have had to strain to keep anger out of her voice, but this X5 was different, somehow. She felt a sort of kinship with him that she couldn't explain, perhaps because he was one of the few other X5s who were behind on years of missed training.

They had all been told that they had been out on secret missions for Manticore, and they were of the utmost importance. Each had finished their own separate mission and had returned, but the missions had been long and strenuous, and so they had required years to accomplish. Exactly what they had accomplished, neither 452, 493, or any of the others knew, since it was of the highest level of security, only entrusted to one person, the top dog of the whole facility. He (or she; 452 didn't know, since his/her identity had always been kept a top secret) hadn't felt it was necessary to compromise the work their long years had taken to gain, and 452 understood that completely. If it had taken her years to do, a memory swipe, _and_ time lost in training, resulting in the major butt-kicking she was taking now, she certainly did not want to see the fruits of her labor unravel helplessly before her.

And so she and 493 had a sort of mutual understanding, and she genuinely liked the man. If it were at all possible for an X5 to have a family, she felt deep inside of her that 493 would have been her older brother. While he was certainly very attractive, as all X5s are supposed to be, the thought of him as a possible breeding partner set her skin crawling. That was just… wrong.

She didn't know how to explain it, but that was normal. At Manticore, many things were unexplained, and they were just fine without any explanations. Those would only complicate things and make it considerably harder to function as a soldier, much less as a unit, as was the traditional workings of the place in general. They were expected to do everything together, as one, as a unit that could work and fight together and help each other be their best for Manticore. Questioning that doctrine only led to confusion and self-doubt. But wasn't that what 452 had gone to her cell to do in the first place? _Ugh, what was I thinking?_ She upbraided herself for her treasonous thoughts and decided instead to study with 493.


	2. Hell on the Home Front

**_Disclaimer: _Still don't own any of these characters. And I won't in the next chapter. Or the next...  
_Summary: _**More plot building and scene setting. This one sheds some light on TC.  
**_A/N: _**Yes, I like details - a lot. If this is a problem, let me know. Luckily, there's more dialogue here. Sorry if this is a slow start; I promise the action will pick up. Please review! Please! I'd love to know what you think... or if anyone's even reading this...

--edited for easier read

* * *

It had been three months since that fateful day that no one in Terminal City could erase from their minds. They had been so hopeful after Max had set up a city strictly for transgenics, a place where no ordinary people could ever bother them because they would get deathly ill upon entering the city, a place where they didn't have to look like everyone else to be accepted.

It was going to be a transgenic Utopia, only needing to worry about the occasional hate-crime attempted by braver groups of ordinaries. They had found a sanctuary. And then, in a matter of mere hours, they lost all hope.

Someone had leaked information to Max that they had found some of her missing relatives. Worse still, they baited her with information on a project that enabled the scientists back at Manticore to virtually resurrect her dead siblings. All she had needed to hear was that she would be able to find Tinga and Ben alive and well at Manticore, and then she was off with barely an hour's notice to her second-in-command, Alec.

As soon as Alec had gotten her message, he had contacted Logan to let him know what was going down.

Naturally, Logan smelled a rat and sent out reinforcements in the form of Asha's crew. Max was supposed to stealthily come to a town nearby Manticore HQ, and tell an innkeeper at a local place called Rustic Charm Inn that she would be needing a room for the week. She was to go by a specified false name, and then she would receive further instructions from a 'cleaning lady' who was actually an agent of her informant.

All of this sounded a little far-fetched to Max, but she agreed upon learning the whole operation was to be orchestrated by a man named Sandeman. That name had lulled her into a false sense of security, and the mere thought of Ben and Tinga alive again threw Max totally off-guard. She rushed off to the inn alone, and the 'cleaning lady' gave her a rag of chloroform to the mouth instead of information.

Asha arrived too late, and Max was never heard from again. Most people suspected that she was dead, considering all the trouble she had caused for Manticore, but more well-informed people such as Logan and Alec knew that Max was too valuable to kill. They had, after all, gone to the trouble to cook up such an intricate scheme as that solely to capture Max. Yes, Max had to be alive, but who knew what kind of torture she was being put through? In three months, they could have easily turned her, put her through indoctrination, and completely broken the Max they had known.

Certainly the problem of Max was horrifying, but the part of the incident that had proven to be most damaging of all to TC was the question of who had given Max the information in the first place. That question was truly unsettling. TC was in a state of grief and mourning for a whole day after Max's disappearance before someone thought to ask that fateful question in anger and pain. Who from Terminal City had betrayed them all and handed Max over to the enemy? Who gave those phony directions to her, and where did they come from? Surely, the orders were from some upper officer of Manticore, but who had gone up to Max's office and delivered the package?

The only possibility was that it had to be a transgenic of some sort since Max had received the message on her office desk in TC. The gates of TC were always expertly guarded to insure the safety of the citizens of TC against rogue bands of ordinaries looking for trouble, and those guards had daily reported that no one had come or gone from TC any time within a week before or after the incident. Three months later, there was still no change whatsoever in the population of TC, and that only meant one thing: there was a traitor living right within the walls of TC.

Once this information became common knowledge (despite all efforts to keep it contained), a witch-hunt attitude swept up TC and all of its people. Friends and neighbors took up arms and went about doing vigilante work by cover of night, interrogating anyone they had suspicion against of being involved. So far, there had been no fatalities, but there were certainly injuries.

All fatalities had been mercifully prevented by the special operations crew hastily initiated by Alec, who, with Max gone, was now leader of TC. The crew had to patrol every night for the past three months, breaking up riots and jailing those involved on the side of the instigators. The jail was getting awfully crowded after two months, and so they had to open up a new one to contain the overflow of transgenics involved in the crazed vigilante crusade.

Now, after three months with no sign of Max and no traitor unmasked, the people of TC were getting close to their breaking points. Things were getting out of control at an alarming rate. Basically, TC was a living nightmare.

Alec sat in his chair and listened wearily as the captains of the Spec. Ops. reported events of the night before. There had been another riot. A fight broke out, and a transgenic had taken a serious wound to the shoulder. He was in the makeshift hospital, the building next-door to the one they were in right now. He was there with six others who had taken other serious injuries. They were all expected to live. Same ol' same ol'.

Alec's mind wandered as the men were talking, droning, at him. He absently wondered why, oh why, had Max ever made him second-in-command. If not for that, then he wouldn't be mired in this awful mess right now. He mused that a hot bath would feel great right about now, maybe soak off some of his bone-wearying fatigue. He wondered how long it was going to be until someone was killed under his watch, and how Max would react to that when she got back. When, not if. They would find her. _Then she'll just end up kicking my ass for the mess I've made of things,_ he thought, wondering when he had started to miss her sharp tongue and violent attitude.

ThenAlec realized that the men had stopped talking and were watching him expectantly. "Uh, yes… Good work, gentlemen. Report back to me tomorrow, same time."

"Yes, Sir!" they answered, sickeningly reminding him of his own days at Manticore.

With the men out of the room, Alec could at last let his face relax from its illusion of firm control that he had had to train it into these last months. He couldn't imagine how Max had ever handled it! _Psh, she didn't have a civil war going on right outside!_ he thought ruefully. _Plus, I had her back_. _I_ _have_ _no one!_

Still, running the whole city by himself was taxing, to say the least. Alec was an extremely good-looking X5, but with all of the stress he had been put under, the mischievous gleam was missing from his gold-green eyes; his handsome, firm face was slightly hollowed out from lack of sleep; his whole frame lost its strong, muscular appearance since his entire body was sunken and defeated, a feeling his attitude was beginning to reflect. He didn't know how much more of this he could stand.

"Huh, I can barely stand right _now,_" he softly confided into the empty air.

Just then, one of the Spec. Ops. rapped lightly on the doorframe and peered inside, clearly asking permission to enter.

"Come in," Alec said while firming up his face without even thinking about it. Amazing how it had become second nature to wipe all emotion off of his face whenever he spoke to anyone else.

"Sir, there's a call for you," the young transgenic officer said.

Alec nodded. The young man handed him the cell phone used by their 'government' officials. Max had bought it a long time ago, as soon as it became clear that TC officials would need a contact phone number where anyone could reach them at any time. She had been clever enough to make it a mobile phone, since they might have to go on the lamb at any given moment. But that was Maxie for ya, always planning ahead.

"Sir?" The officer was still holding out the phone, and Alec realized a bit too late that he had let his thoughts wander again. Worse yet, his face had softened with thoughts of Max. Of late, those thoughts always brought that reaction.

Shaking himself out of his momentary reverie, Alec took the phone. "Thanks, I'll take it in here," he added with a subtle dismissal.

The young man left the room, and Alec watched the door close before saying formally, "Alec here," into the phone expectantly.

"Alec, it's Logan," a man's voice answered.

"Logan, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Alec said, letting in a more casual tone for this rather long-time acquaintance. But casual or not, Alec's insides were writhing with anxiety and excitement. He didn't really like Logan all that much, since they were about as opposite as two people could be, but Logan only called to talk to Alec when it was something important, usually a new lead or information concerning Max or Manticore. Alec would have preferred only those reports dealing with Max, so that he would know how close she was to coming back and saving him from all the hell exploding in his face, but Logan had an unflappable desire to save the world one bad-guy at a time, so he could only hope that this report would be an interesting one.

"I have news… on Max," he said cautiously.

Alec's heart skipped a beat. Logan didn't exactly sound happy. Alec wanted to shout, "Where is she? Is she okay? Why haven't they brought her back yet!" but instead he said smoothly, "Alright. And?"

Logan hesitated. "Well, my informant who has been watching her movements at Manticore has reported that they haven't seen her outside training with the others for a few days now."

_What!_ His informant had been watching Max, and he had never been told of any sighting of her since her capture? Alec fought to keep the anger from his voice. "Really? And how long has your informant been watching her?"

"For about two weeks now. She's been training outside with a certain team of X5s every morning." Logan sounded… slightly triumphant. _Damn_. There must have still been some anger in his voice when he asked that question. It was no secret that Logan Cale and Alec didn't like each other. Alec thought Logan was a snobby, daydreaming idealist, and Logan thought Alec was a cocky, smart-mouthed jerk. It must have been thrilling to keep such vital information from Alec. Especially news on Max.

For some unfathomable reason, Logan seemed to be chronically jealous of the man and his relationship with Max. Logan resented the fact that Alec could see Max on a daily basis in TC, resented the fact that she had trusted him enough to name him second-in-command, resented the fact that Alec could accidentally touch her and not die from some whacked out virus. That was why he played these vicious games with Alec's head, and oh how it rankled Alec. But his pride wouldn't allow Logan to know that.

"And your informant hasn't seen them training now for a few days?"

"Actually, they saw the others, but Max wasn't with them."

"Just Max?"

"Just Max."

"Hmmm. Do you think she's in trouble?"

"I don't know what that could mean. You're the one who actually lived there. When people don't train, are they in trouble?"

_Calm down, stay calm, man_. "Either that, or they're getting a special mission. Or being tested."

Worry entered Logan's voice. "Tested? How so?"

_Ha, shook him up a bit. Guess he's human after all_. "As in, evaluations of fighting and mental skills to test them for promotions," … _or their sick little experimentations_. He really hoped it wasn't that last. The things they did were quite horrific sometimes.

Logan sounded relieved. "Okay, so how do we know which it is?"

"We wait and watch for her. If she returns in a few more days, it's safe to assume she's either been punished or tested. If not, we know she's on a mission."

Logan snorted. "Huh, real safe, eh? She's only been punished or 'tested'."

"Hey man, you asked."

There was a pause before Logan said, "Well, okay. That's all, then. There's nothing more we can do."

"Nope. Nothing but keep watch," Alec interjected even though that last hadn't been a question. Oh how he loved to mess with Logan!

Annoyed pause. "Well, I just thought you should know."

_Yeah, after two whole weeks_. "Thanks, Logan. Let me know as soon as you hear anything more." He had laid a slight emphasis on the word "soon" in hopes that Logan would pick up his subtle chastisement.

It worked. Logan uttered a noncommittal noise that sounded like, "Sure thing," before hanging up.

Alec pocketed the phone. Feeling slightly more refreshed, he said to the open air, "Alec, one, Logan, zero!"

He pondered what Logan's mysterious information could mean. He didn't know what they were doing to Max, but knowing her, she had a plan. _But why would she train there like an obedient little lamb for three months? Unless she has something up her sleeve? Or, maybe she hasn't been obedient at all and she's being punished? Ugh_, that line of thought was starting to make his head spin!

A loud crash outside and the sound of lots of shouting brought Alec back to reality. _Great, another riot. And during the day now! Perfect, just keeps getting better_. _Now the transgenic KKK is getting braver and attacking by day, too_. He hoped Max was okay, but she would have to wait. Right now, he had duties to take care of.


	3. Signs of Hope

_**Disclaimer:**_ Dark Angel is not and never will be mine. But in this chapter, **Dodson** is entirely of my own creation.  
**_Summary: _**This chapter lets you into other people's minds, mainly Logan's. And the plot thickens...

* * *

Logan Cale hung up his phone in disgust. _How could Max have ever trusted that cocky jerk?_ Alec hadn't even seemed concerned for Max in the slightest! _"If she returns in a few more days, it's safe to assume she's either been punished or tested." _And that horrifying statement delivered like a weather report. Logan's fists clenched at that thought.

He couldn't help but have a natural dislike for the man. Alec was never kind to Max, and he was a constant source of trouble for her. Logan couldn't for the life of him understand why Max kept the arrogant transgenic around at all. Alec had screwed up too many times to count. If it wasn't for him, Max wouldn't have that damned virus. The thought of never being able to touch Max ever again was a violent blow.Logan knew that the day he was told by a trusted doctor that he could never see or touch her again would be the day he would die, instantly, of heartbreak. The virus was, first and foremost, the main source of his problem with Alec.

_Oh yeah, then there's that small matter of the time he tried to kill Max. _

OK, these angry thoughts were doing him no good at all. Besides, what could he, Logan Cale, the man who couldn't even naturally walk on his own, possibly do to a muscular, Manticore-trained killing-machine soldier transgenic with heightened abilities? Send him a computer virus? Logan laughed bitterly at his own weakness when it came to protecting people he cared for. He couldn't save Max from getting captured. There was no way he was going to be able to save her from Alec, should she need saving.

_He doesn't deserve her trust! Why does she constantly put her faith in him?_

The thought exploded from a dark corner of his mind, and he pounded his fist on his desk with his emotions. This was petty. He couldn't mope about with pangs of jealousy clouding his thoughts. He had nothing to be jealous of! Max trusted Alec, true, but she had never had an intimate relationship with him. They were barely beginning to consider each other friends when Max was captured. It was nothing like what she and Logan had been through together. He and Max were soul-mates, he was sure of that. Nothing could keep them apart. Not Manticore, and not even that horrible virus.

These calming thoughts of reassurance were finally starting to take effect. Logan was considerably less angry than he was before, and he decided to log on to his computer to run another check on the new Manticore facility's layout. He had just brought up a window with a bare-bones blueprint of what he imagined the inside would look like according to the structure outlined in some confidential photographs when his cell phone began to ring. Logan's breath caught as he read the number on the call ID, the number belonging to one of his many informants in the network he had through Eyes Only. Hope alighted in his mind.

"Hello?"

"Hullo, mister Cale, this is Dodson. I have some information you might wanna hear... if this is a good time, that is."

"Any time is a good time, Dodson. Now, what word on Max?"

"Well, she was seen inside the facility walking with one of your boys from Terminal City."

_What? _"I'm... afraid I don't understand..."

"You know, one of those transgenics running the sector. Male, tall, early twenties, dirty-blonde hair, etc. Y'know who I mean?"

_He couldn't be talking about..._ "N-no, I... don't. A name would help. A barcode, anything."

"M'afraid that's all I got. Hell, I don't know their names. You don't know him? I thought you checked in with them every day, keepin' tabs on 'em."

Logan hesitated. "Do you mean Alec McDowell? The leader of Terminal City?"

"Yeah, that's him! Yup, he's the one."

"Dodson, if he's running Terminal City, what makes you think you could possibly have spotted him at Manticore?"

"Hey, mine's not to question my information, I just deliver. 'Sides, I'd know that face anywhere. Man, I'd kill to look like that! I'd have to beat the girls off with a stick!"

Logan bit back the venomous remark on the tip of his tongue. "Well, was she alright? Did she look healthy? Is she safe? He wasn't hurting her, was he?"

"Woah, woah, _woah,_ slow down, man! Easy! Don't worry, your little girlfriend's alright. She was safe, he wasn't messing with her, they were just walking. They looked like they were just havin' a casual conversation. As for how she looked..." he trailed off, with a little reminiscent amusement to his voice, suggesting that Max looked fine as ever.

"Anything else?" Logan said, trying to keep impatience from entering his voice. Impatience was never a good tone to take with people, especially with those who were helping you protect the treasures of your heart.

"That's about all for now. Man, that place is one tough safe to crack! Guards everywhere! I got lucky to spot her at all through that miserable little window over the basement. You should count your blessings for any scrap you get on her, 'cuz they're keepin' her under lock 'n' key, y'know what I mean? I just figgered you'd need some hope. So there ya go."

Logan felt slightly disappointed, but he was relieved to hear that Max was safe... well, at least that she was healthy. "Thanks a lot, Dodson. You've done great. And if you hear anything more, feel free to give me a call. It's always a pleasure."

"Pleasure's mine, mister Cale. I'll call ya soon as I get more," he said just before hanging up.

Logan placed the receiver down slowly as he thought about that interesting news. "No, definitely not Alec. Impossible. He has way too much on his plate with Max gone," he mused aloud. He really wouldn't put it past Alec to monopolize tidbits on Max, let alone time with her all to himself, but that line of thought was unreasonable. The man simply could not be in two places at once. Terminal City would most certainly feel the loss of it's leader, even for a few hours, what with the turmoil going on there these days. _Thanks to his fine management skills entrusted to him by Max._ That wasn't fair, and he knew it, but Logan's thoughts always turned bitter at mention of Alec.

So, it wasn't Alec. That much was absolutely true. But that left only one other option, one possibility that was extremely unsettling. If it wasn't Alec, that could only mean that it was Ben, Max's dead brother whose name lured her back to Manticore in the first place.

_Does this mean that there was some truth to that phony message? Can Manitcore really raise the dead? _It was a question that was worth considering. It opened up numerous scary possibilities that Logan didn't even want to consider. But that left another matter nagging on his mind. _Why do they need Max then?_ He had to rescue her before anyone found out the answer to that one.

Logan knew that this was important to the transgenic sector of the city, but one conversation with Alec was more than enough for one day. Alec would be told when Logan had something more concrete to go on. Until then, Logan would keep looking for signs of hope. Ben or no Ben, Logan was determined. He _would _get her out of there, or die trying.

* * *

After three months of training and re-indoctrination, all signs at last pointed to a complete success. 

452 was not the rebellious girl they had captured three months ago, without an ounce of respect for authority or self-discipline; she was a soldier. She was improving at an alarming rate. It was fantastic.

She had exceeded all expectations, even after years of missed training. Sure, she was attempting to make up for it now with extra work, and she still had a long ways to go before catching up with her fellow soldiers, but the extra work didn't seem to be dragging her down very much or taxing her energy. Shark DNA probably aided her to that end, but it was more than DNA alone could account for.

She was strong, fast, and agile in fighting, and best of all, she was totally loyal. She never presented any behavior problems, and about a week into her re-indoctrination, she never complained, but rather became the pristine image of a well-disciplined soldier. She was Manticore's finest.

Of course, they never let her know that. That would be foolish and would go against policy. Give 'em an inch, and they'll run with it for sure.

It had been a risk well-considered to test their new methods of re-indoctrination by placing her in a cell with her 'brother' Ben, one of the X5s she had escaped with so long ago. The very sight of him should have triggered strong memories or emotions, since just dropping his name to her had convinced her to throw caution to the wind and come to see him, but she hadn't so much as blinked when she saw her new cellmate. Surprising, to say the least, but very much welcome. Ben wouldn't trigger any memories of himself _or_ of his twin who was running loose about that abominable Terminal City place.

Disgusting to think that their precious creations had chosen to expose themselves to the whole world, and all because of that remarkable little transgenic, 452. She was dangerous, and yet so necessary. Only she possessed the precious DNA that contained no junk whatsoever. They just had to find a way to recreate it! They had to know more.

Plus, they could easily put her fantastic skills to good use. They could always use a good soldier. They were perfect for removing problems. And they certainly had a problem that needed removing right now.

"But, … are you sure it's safe?" a man in a black suit asked tentatively.

"Yes. I'm sure. We can trust her."

"But -"

"I said 'Yes'. She can handle it, now that she's been properly broken."

"Alright, alright. I'll send her in first thing tomorrow morning."

"Good."

Renfro smiled. 452 would be all but putty in her hands.

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**_A/N: _Hope you enjoyed it! Please review!**


	4. Family Matters

**_Disclaimer: _I don't own Dark Angel. At all. Don't sue!  
_Story: _**452 and 493 share some cute, fuzzy family time  
**_A/N: _**This chapter is shorter. Sorry, I know it's been quite a while since I've updated last, but I've only just gotten out of school and over a major, trumped-up case of writer's block. But my muse is back, for now! Don't worry, there's plenty more on the way, just as soon as I get a day off of work. Thanks for your patience, and please, please, _please,_ **REVIEW!** I would greatly appreciate it, getting to see if anybody likes what I'm doing here. **Thanks! Enjoy!**

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493 talked with 452 as they made their way down the halls of Manticore together. 493 was trying to softly disperse the tension in the air by chatting lightly about nothing in particular, about anything that would take 452's mind off of her harsh surroundings. 493 always spoke in a comforting voice that soothed her, a story-telling voice that appealed to her imagination, one of the only parts of the soldiers that Manticore refused to have exercised. 

"So then I asked her politely if they were ever planning to put windows in our cells, and she had the weirdest look on her face! It was as if I had spoken to her in French," he said with an amused smile. Then he paused. "Now that I think of it, it is a rather odd question to ask an officer of Manticore," he added as he cocked his head thoughtfully. "I think they may give me extra training for thinking outside the box that is Manticore." He gave a lighthearted chuckle at the worried look on 452's face. "I'm just kidding."

"Right."

452 was trying not to let him notice that she was worried about him. Here they were again, treading on thin ice by showing emotions! How in the world was 452 going to put a lid on the things she felt when she was with her friend and cellmate?

He made her feel… safe. He was her safe place here, and she knew that he would be far better at protecting her than any knife or gun would. But Manticore doctrine taught that if you were in danger, escape and evade was your best line of defense until you were cornered. When that happened, your only chance for survival was your gun. Shoot and run. That was it. There was nothing in it about protecting the members of your unit at the cost of your own life, but somehow 452 knew that if it ever came to that, 493 would be ready and willing to do so if it meant saving her.

"But windows are dangerous, 493. They may let outsiders see us."

"452, listen to yourself! Do you see the guards that swarm this place all the time? How on Earth is anyone who shouldn't be here going to live to get near enough to the walls to peek inside of cell windows? They'd be shot before they went two feet."

"But still, windows are bad. We shouldn't be distracted from our missions and training." 452 knew deep down that she didn't mean what she was saying, knew it sounded fake and hollow, like hearing someone else speak. But still she said them in an effort to convince herself more than her brother.

_My brother…. _That was what he was. 493 was her brother, her family member who protected her in all things. She knew that they were made in a test tube, but she refused to shake that comforting feeling. It was probably the only comfortable thing about the whole place. When times and training got rough, her brother would tell her little stories to calm her down.

Late at night in their cell, 493 and 452 would talk about their rough days and sometimes even have some lighthearted gossip to share about other X series or officers. Times like those could almost make 452 forget where and what she was. It was an incredible feeling, having a brother.

The two transgenics reached the cell they shared and went inside to chat some more. 493 told cute little amusing anecdotes long into the night until he started to get drowsy.

"After that… we just decided to ignore him… and spent the rest of the time… hiking, and admiring the trees and birds and all…. I don't think he was very happy about that. …We might get moved to different units and all." All this separated by gaping yawns.

452 smiled knowingly. Her rebel brother needed his sleep. He didn't have any shark DNA to speak of like she did.

"493, go to sleep, you troublemaker!" she teased affectionately. He smiled at her, eyes bleary with exhaustion.

"You sure?"

"Yep. 'Night, sleepy-head."

"OK…. Good-night…. "

_Sound asleep,_ she thought with a smile. He wore himself out trying to comfort her!

He turned in his sleep and sighed softly. "...Max..." It was so low that she almost didn't hear it, a whisper in his dreams. But at that whisper, 452 felt her heart stop.

_What did he say?_

A roaring rush of images swam through her mind. She saw flashes of a young X5 punching, training, running on a treadmill, all hooked up to machines, shaking in uncontrollable seizures, running through the snow with the little X5s, flashing at blinding speed, almost hurting her head.

452's eyes shot wide open.She started to sweat as a distant memory from another life filled her head.

"_Max is a boy's name. You don't look like a boy. Why do you have a boy's name?"_

"_If it's my name, and I'm not a boy, than it's not a boy's name, now, is it?"_

_The little girl didn't look so sure. "Well, if you say so, Max."_

_Max nodded her head. _

452 gasped loudly as the memory released her. Surely it had to have been a memory; it had seemed so real! She heard her brother's voice again in her head, a thundering whisper. _"...Max... Max... Max..."_

"452!"

452 hadn't slept a wink the whole night, and it was to no fault of her shark DNA. She sat up straight on her bed as soon as she heard her designation shouted through the bars on her door. "Sir!"

"You are to report for duty in the Mission Control Sector at 0800 hours! Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir!"

The officer left her door and she prepared to leave for breakfast just as 493 crawled out of his bed. 452 bit her lip, wondering if she should mention his sleep-talking spell last night. She watched him stretch his arms and decided against it. He had been asleep, after all. It wasn't as if he would remember saying that. Right?

"Mornin'!" he said cheerfully as he turned to face her with a smile. His green eyes glowed with his renewed strength that rest bought.

452 plastered on a tight smile and tried to copy the well-rested look he gave her, but she knew she wouldn't be able to imitate that glow in his eyes. "Hey."

"What adventures are planned for us today?" 493 asked with exaggerated enthusiasm.

452 chuckled. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm being assigned to a mission today."

493 looked shocked. "A mission? Really? Woah! This is your first one, right?"

"Since they've had me training, yeah."

"Wow. When?"

"Right after breakfast."

"That soon, huh? Don't s'pose I could come with...?"

It wasn't exactly a question, but 452 answered anyways. "No, don't s'pose you could. Sorry."

493 nodded understandingly. "Alright. Well, good luck, 452. I guess I won't be seeing you for a while." He paused, and a sad sort of look crossed his face for a bit. "Bye."

452 looked at him feeling sorry to leave. She bit her lip and frowned, debating whether or not she should_... Aw, screw it_. She ran up to 493 and threw her arms around him, capturing him in a brotherly hug. 493 was surprised, but he hugged her back after the shock passed.

"Good-bye, brother," she whispered into his chest.

"Brother?" he said, a bit confused. Then, he paused thoughtfully and nodded carefully. "Brother," he agreed, slowly trying the word out on his tongue for the first time that he could remember.

493 released 452 and looked into her dark brown eyes. "You be careful, little sister. Don't let them hurt you."

452 smiled, all thoughts of her scare in the night chased away by this family feeling. "Don't worry about me, 493. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

"I know, you can. You've improved quite a bit."

452 gave a mischievous grin. "Yeah, if anybody gives me trouble, I can just kick their ass." _I can _what_? What just came out of my mouth!_ Her eyes shot open wide, and her hands clamped over her open mouth.

493 started laughing. "Baby sister, you don't have to be embarrassed. Just don't say that to your officer!"

452 looked sheepish. "R-right," she stammered. "Oh, I have to go to the mess hall," she said, glancing down at her watch.

493 smiled and nodded. "Yeah, go get some food."

452 turned to leave and yanked open the door.

"And then go kick some ass."

452 turned around to smile at her brother. "I am such a bad influence on you! You stay out of trouble. See ya 'round!"

493 waved a hand, and 452 left at a near run for the mess hall.

* * *

**tbc...**


	5. A New Development

**_Disclaimer: _Dark Angel isn't my baby.  
_Story: _**Picks up where chapter 4 left off. Then there's a sappy reflective moment. Warning: the moment is Asha's. If that bugs you, sorry. It's a necessary evil.  
**_A/N: _**I've been trying to update faster, 'cuz I'm itching to get to the fun stuff, too! The action is _definitely_ going to pick up soon. Please stick with it, and I'll do the same. You won't regret it! **Please review and tell me what you think. Thanks!**

* * *

452 bolted down a quick breakfast and headed for the Mission Control Sector, right on time for her appointment. She put on her game face. There was no need to let the upper ranks of Manticore realize that her heart was pounding in her throat with her nerves. It was, as 493 had put it moments before, her first mission. _It's not like I've_ never_ been on a mission before. That's the reason they had to swipe my memories, right?_ That wasn't as comforting of a thought as she had hoped. 

452 stopped at a thick steel-cased door with a sliding screen at the top that opened from the inside. She rapped her knuckles on the door, and the screen slid open almost immediately, allowing 452 to see a pair of stern gray eyes staring at her.

"State your designation," a gruff voice said from behind the door.

"X5-452, Sir!" she answered promptly.

After a brief pause, the door latch opened, and a soft hiss of air was heard as the huge door itself swung open slowly. The gray-eyed man stood aside and waved 452 inside the room silently.

The room itself was dark and drafty, as if someone had the air conditioner on too high, or a dozen ceiling fans going at once. The sheer intimidation of the whole room was sufficient to make 452 shiver, regardless of the temperature.

In the middle of the room was an area that had better lighting, casting an almost warm yellow glow around, shedding light on a large computer monitor. 452 stopped and looked around, waiting for her mysterious assignment. The gray-eyed man nudged her lightly in the side and pointed to the chair in front of the monitor. 452 shot him a quick, uncertain glance before going up to the curious monitor and taking a seat.

As soon as she sat down, the computer monitor flashed on, and a man's deep voice came through the speakers. "452, welcome. I trust you know why you're here today." 452 nodded, wondering if the man could see her. "Good. Your mission is going to be a solo mission. You will have a single target to eliminate, and once you've eliminated that target, you can come home. Easy enough?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Excellent. There is no exact time limit on this mission, with it being your first one in a long time, but we expect that it should take no more than three days tops. It may take you that long to locate him, but any more than that and we will have to send out a search party for you. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Now. Here's all the background you'll need for this particular case. The target is very well protected. He surrounds himself with powerful friends and has an intricate network of informants. All past attempts to eliminate him have ended very badly, even resulting in death for some cases. He is a wickedly clever man with great resources, and he has discovered Project Manticore. He has made it his Holy Crusade, if you will, to bring Manticore down to its foundations. Not that he has come remotely close, as of yet, but he is sniffing around too much for our comfort, and he must be stopped. This is a top priority mission of security, and the fact that it has been entrusted to you, 452, should be a source of pride. The Grand General puts great faith in you."

The man's voice paused, and a virtual file folder appeared on the screen, slowly rotating as 452 watched, showing the words, "Mission Alpha: 452." The folder opened and released a photograph that enlargened, allowing 452 to see a close-up shot of a pair of intense blue eyes. It looked like a still shot of a video broadcast. The words "Streaming Freedom" ran above and underneath those eyes like banners. That picture tickled something in the back of 452's head, but before she could contemplate it any further, the man began to speak again.

"The target likes to go by the undercover name 'Eyes Only.' You'll have an easier time finding him by searching for his mild-mannered alter-ego, Logan Cale."

_Logan... Cale_... 452 saw a man's smiling face in her head, a handsome older man, with ruffled light brown hair and whiskers, smiling at her with loving blue eyes, the same blue eyes she saw in the picture, only less intense and hidden somewhat behind a pair of glasses. The face remained in her head for only a second, and then it was gone, but the image made her start.

"Is there a problem, 452?"

The man's deep voice brought her back to reality. "No, Sir!"

"Then you feel ready to accomplish your goal?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"You will be able to successfully eliminate your target?"

_"Yes, Sir!"_

"Good. You will be deployed immediately. Your target is located in Seattle. That is where we will take you. But first, we have to immunize you."

Seemingly out of nowhere, out of the shadows of the dark room, men in medical face masks appeared, slowly surrounding 452, making her feel trapped. They led her to an operating table, forcibly tugging her and strapping her down. 452 felt a sharp pain as some foreign chemical was injected beneath the surface of her skin, and soon, her world was getting foggy.

Feeling woozy, 452 absently wondered what they had drugged her with, and why. Time seemed to slow down, eventually freezing, and all logical thought with it. A flash of familiar blue eyes invaded her mind, and then everything went black as 452 passed out.

* * *

"This has been a Streaming Freedom video bulletin. Peace. Out." 

Logan powered down his broadcasting equipment and put his glasses back on. At the sound of his door opening, he spun around to face the pretty young blond who shared his 'apartment,' Joshua's old home. Logan smiled in welcome.

"Hey, Asha! Where've you been these past few days? Been fighting the good fight with the S1W?"

Asha shrugged. "Yeah," she said nonchalantly. "Just got back from a pretty successful job. We organized a mass protest against police violence, and I think we're getting more support from the public now. The Sector Police and other so-called "law enforcement" officers aren't so happy with us, naturally, but at least most people don't see us as terrorists anymore."

The protest had been taking place for the last three days, but only during the light hours. When the sun set, Asha had been going to her old haunt, Crash, the local bar, to drown her sorrows. But Logan didn't need to know that.

Logan stared intently at her downcast face, nodding and half-listening. "Uh huh..." He sounded unconvinced of something, making Asha jerk her head up warily. Those intense blue eyes made her heart flutter for a second.

"Asha, what's on your mind?"

"Hm? What d'you mean?"

"I mean, what's bothering you?"

"What makes you think something's bothering me?"

"Asha..."

"I'm fine," she said firmly. That blue-eyed stare never faltered. Asha fumbled for a change of subject, and she swallowed the lump in her throat she knew was forming. She lowered her gaze once more. "How's Max?"

Logan's eyes clouded over with emotion for a brief moment. "I don't know," he said carefully. "I hope she's OK, but I just don't know."

"Me too." _Liar,_ she thought to herself. Part of her did hope that Max was OK, but another part, a darker one with primal instincts, savagely wished that Max would never, ever return. The girl held Logan's heart on a leash, only to lead it to pain and suffering. But Logan would never see that she was bad for him. _Why does he love her? Why does _everyone_ love her? _

It was true. Every man that met her and got to know her, it seemed, found himself completely head-over-heels for the girl. Asha had heard about Max's transgenic 'brother' Zack, and Max's rendezvous with that Rafer boy, from a jealous Logan. _Hell, she's even got _Alec _whipped!_

Alec, the playful, womanizing transgenic rogue, would never admit it. Maybe he didn't even realize it himself, but he was Max's as surely as Logan was. Once upon a time, Alec had invited Asha over for a one-night stand, but that was after the two of them had downed quite a bit of alcohol to 'celebrate' the reunion of Max and Logan, that time when they had found a temporary cure to the "love bug" virus. Asha remembered it clearly, the way Alec expertly interpreted her unrequited love for Logan.

_"You want Logan for yourself. I mean, come on. You had it all dialed in when Max was back at Manticore, presumed dead. You and Logan, doing your hero thing, spending hours together in his fancy little apartment, all tuned up about the ways of the world. It was a good time for you, right?"_

_"Yeah, he was thinking about Max every second of every day. He never believed she was dead. And when she came back, he was the happiest I'd ever seen him." _

_"Yeah, until the virus thing." _

_"Even with the virus, they never gave up on each other. And no matter how I feel about it, I have to respect that. Because that, my friend, is true love." _

_"Yeah, right. Have they ever even once said, 'I love you'? No. No. Max... Max would choke on the words. Logan... eh, he'd say it, in an e-mail. 'He's not my boyfriend. We were never even like that. It was never the right time.' No, Logan is a repressed WASP and Max is a... a broken toy. The two of them will never work out together."_

It was funny how Alec could know that Asha was an active participant in their drowning-of-sorrows 'celebration' because of her feelings for Logan, and then not even consider why _he _was so unhappy about Max 'n' Logan "gettin' busy".

"Asha."

Logan's voice tore Asha out of her reverie. She looked up at him quickly, startled. "W-hat?"

Logan looked concerned now. "What's the matter? Why have you been avoiding me?"

"Avoiding you? I haven't been avoiding you."

"You won't even look at me," Logan said dryly as Asha became very interested in the carpet again.

Asha looked up defiantly and met Logan's eyes with a level gaze. "Nothing is wrong. Everything's fine. And soon, you'll find Max and bring her home to Seattle, and everyone will get their story-book ending. Everyone will get their 'happily ever after.'" Her face softened a bit, her eyes still locked onto his, and she placed a hand on Logan's arm gently. "Everyone except me."

She scanned Logan's face for a reaction, but it was blank. He looked a bit nervous, and he opened his mouth hesitantly, on the verge of speaking, when the sound of the phone ringing broke the tension in the air. Logan quickly changed what he had been about to say.

"I... gotta go... take this call," he said as he took out his cell phone.

"Right," Asha said softly to Logan's retreating back as he slipped into the kitchen. Her face fell along with her hopes. Most likely, Logan was taking a call from one of his many informants, putting him one step closer to Max. And one step farther from her. Asha fought back a tear and went to her room to sleep.

* * *

**tbc...**

**A/N#2: **Just so ya know, I don't particularly like Asha. I think she's kind of annoying, but I tried to separate myself from my opinion when I wrote this. I hope I succeeded in capturing the depths of blondie's heart. Just a quick FYI. Thanks to all the people reading this! Reviews are always welcome.


	6. Wild Goose Chase

**_Disclaimer: _I still can't claim ownership to Dark Angel. **But I'm working on it, haha!  
**_Story: _**452 has arrived in sunny Seattle, life outside of Manticore. Enter other familiar faces...  
**_A/N: _**I know, I know, I said the updates would be quicker, but that was before marching band started up again. _(If any of you have ever done this before, you know what I mean! It's a ton of hard work and physical labor in the sun, and it takes up a lot of my time. But I'm still crazy enough to do it, and even have fun with it since I get to see my friends there all summer. Plus there's my job... But now I'll stop rambling and making excuses for myself.)_ So I apologize. Again. **Thanks so much** to all of those who read what I have here so far and reviewed! It encourages me to keep writing. So now that the incredibly long author's note is ending, **enjoy!**

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452 left the sparkling granite building with the words "Town Welcome Centre" gleaming gold on its front wall. She anxiously examined the map of Seattle she had gone inside to get. She needed to find her target quickly to assess the situation, and all 452 knew was that he was somewhere here in this broken, vast city.

_But how to find him? I can't exactly look up 'Eyes Only' in the phone book. _

She had already tried to look up 'Logan Cale', but it seemed that 'Cale' was a big name here, and Logan wasn't listed. _Go figure. Must be a pretty private guy._

Well, if the Cales were the playboys of the city, maybe the common folk would know where to find him. They might even be able to provide helpful, juicy tidbits on the private lives of the Cales by way of the 'gossip mill'. Celebrity gossip was a favorite subject among normal people according to her training on Human Interaction.

Manticore made sure to give all of their soldiers that kind of training just before sending them out into the world to complete their missions. 452 thought that having to train on how to talk to normal people was a bit extreme, and the sessions were always pointless. She had excelled in those sessions without thought. There wasn't really much to it. 452 felt it was only common sense. She had even already been familiar with most of the pop culture references. But now it was time to put those skills to good use.

452 lowered her dark sunglasses and scanned the bright city street, trying to pinpoint a possible informant. She saw a female just shy of her middle years walking, holding the hands of two small children who were skipping a bit, all three laughing as they went.

Farther off was a group of punkish-looking teenaged males, all dressed in dark clothes with chains, nodding in time to a loud rock beat and some even attempting to dance on skateboards. They would point and snigger whenever one of their numbers almost fell off or wobbled dangerously on a skateboard. As 452 turned to look elsewhere, she heard laughter explode from the group. Obviously, one of them had slipped and fallen on his butt.

452 noticed a young male and a slightly younger female, the male's arm around the waist of the female. The couple walked slowly down the street, leaning into each other and smiling contentedly. The female giggled a little as the male bent his head towards her ear and whispered something low. She started blushing and held her gaze towards the ground as her companion grinned at her impishly. 452 scrunched up her nose in disgust at the display. _Ugh! Make me yak!_

Quickly moving on, 452 watched as a group of four young boys raced down the street on their bikes. The one in front turned around to taunt his friends. He narrowly missed hitting a parked car as he held one hand on his forehead in the shape of the letter 'L', sticking out his tongue all the while. The boy's pudgy face whipped around in shock at the accident that almost happened, and he didn't try to taunt his friends after that while 452 was looking. She cocked an eyebrow and her lips quirked in amusement.

She could only marvel at the bustling life and happiness of the people of Seattle. This was just an average day for them, but it was an amazing sight for 452 as she wistfully watched normal life move on and leave her behind. She didn't have any friends to laugh with, or children to hold, or a lover to lean into. All she had was a name and a haunting pair of blue eyes to hunt.

452 rubbed the back of her neck, her hand brushing against her barcode gingerly. The small wound was almost completely gone, thanks to her transgenic healing abilities. It was still tender to the touch, but that was better than the throbbing pain she had experienced earlier, when she had come to in her cell, head heavy with the after-effects of whatever they had drugged her with. 452 let her hand fall to her side and shook out her long, glossy hair.

_There. _

Finally, someone was walking alone. A young male closer to 452's age with short dark hair in a plain hooded sweatshirt and jeans casually strolled along the street, hands stuffed into his pockets. 452 saw his eyes widen as he noticed her approaching him. He swallowed nervously and stopped walking.

452 smirked. She knew that she was more than a little attractive to normal humans, so she decided to strut her stuff to make the male willing to divulge any information she required. Her walk was a seductive sway, and a heated intensity filled her dark eyes.She kept her sunglasses lowered to let the male see that he held her gaze. The male seemed rooted to the pavement as 452 got closer.

"Excuse me, sir," she started in a low purr. "I was wondering if you could help me with something...," she trailed off. Let him put whatever meaning to that he wanted.

The young male's mouth hung open a bit, just enough to let out a slightly strangled sound before he could summon any words. "Uh, sure. Whatcha need?" He looked almost fearful. 452 would've laughed if it wouldn't have blown her cover straight through the roof_. No experience with girls, huh_?

"I'm looking for someone." The male's face was an interesting mixture of disappointment and relief. "Ever heard the name 'Logan Cale'?"

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Heard it? Sure I have. 'Cale', anyways. Dunno about a 'Logan', specifically. Why are you looking for the Cale's? Do you know them?" he added hopefully.

452 fought the urge to purse her lips and smack the fellow. He wouldn't be able to tell her anything! She managed to keep her annoyance from creeping into her expression. She opened her mouth to reply just as another voice caught her attention.

"Do not attempt to adjust your set. This is a Streaming Freedom Video bulletin. The cable hack will last exactly 60 seconds. It cannot be traced, it cannot be stopped, and it is the only free voice left in this city."

Where was that voice coming from? 452 spun around to look for the source. Finally, she spotted a television monitor, typically tuned to a Seattle news channel, hanging from the roof of the Welcome Centre. Those eyes shown on the screen right then chased away any comment she was going to make to the young male. She stared up at the screen, watching intently, her lips slightly parted.

"...but the citizens of Terminal City are not to be blamed for the crimes committed daily by those who would choose to live in violence rather than let a semblance of peace settle on our city..."

452 turned back to the male youth. "What's that guy goin' on about?"

The male looked down at her quickly. He, too, had been watching the screen transfixedly. "Uh, that's Eyes Only. Man, that guy is so cool! I dunno why he has this thing for transgenics, though."

452 suppressed a sudden surge of alarm. This ordinary youth of Seattle knew about transgenics? The _common people_ of Seattle knew about them? _Nice of them to tell me about this development _before_ deploying me!_

"What's the dealio about this Terminal City? Where is it?" she inquired casually.

The male stared. "You're new here, aren't you? Well, you've got that map there; open it." 452 opened up the map and spread it out for the fellow to see clearly. He poked an average-sized sector on the map with a slim finger. "_That_ is Terminal City. It's all over the news, every day." His eyes grew wider with excitement as he continued. "They've got a whole bunch of transgenics holed up there, creatures with animal faces and worse, and those scary 'X-series' types that look _just like us," _he added in a dramatic whisper. "They actually _wanted_ to stay in that broken down place! Oh well. S'long as they keep away from the rest of us, I don't really care. But Eyes Only..." The male trailed off and turned back to watching the screen as the broadcast was finishing.

"...day will hopefully arrive when we don't see on the news these hate-crimes that only serve to reveal a deeper view of the ugliness that can be found buried in the hearts of mankind. Violence is not the answer. This has been a Streaming Freedom Video bulletin. Peace. Out."

For a moment, 452 couldn't move. Then the sound of a bike whizzing by and a clicking noise behind her brought her back to the land of the living. She spun around to see what that clicking was, but all she saw was a solitary bike riding down the street, short locks of bleached hair whipping the back of the skinny male's neck. He had to swerve to avoid the same parked car as the kid earlier. _Idiot!_

452 turned back to the male she had been talking to. "So how do I reach this Eyes Only?"

The male had the nerve to laugh at her! "Are you serious? You won't be able to find him, hon!"

_'Hon'!_ "Really. So, what, does he just sit around and watch the news all day long? You tellin' me _that's_ how he gets his scoops?" 452 said sarcastically.

The male stopped laughing and frowned. "Who knows? Look, why you so anxious to meet this guy? And the Cale's? Who are you anyway?"

"A friend from out of town," she answered as she turned to leave. _Crap! I pushed it too hard. Now he's suspicious!_

The male shook his head with a slight frown and trudged along the street, away from 452, whose attention was commanded once again by the television monitor.

The screen had returned to a news reporter, and the story shown was that of a riot outside some grimy, rusty gates. Clouds of smog blocked out the sunrays, casting a dark gloom on the screen, rather fitting for the report. A mass of people were throwing bottles stuffed with flaming dirty rags over the fence, and the occasional rock or can from those in the crowd who weren't armed with bottles. They looked like a pack of wild animals, pushing and jostling each other, jumping and shouting and yelling wordlessly. In all of the chaos, a feeling of mindless rage was emanating from the mob, almost palpable through the screen. Some held signs of protest, painted with big ugly phrases like, "Death to the freaks," "Transgenics are NOT human," and, "Protect our children from mutants."

A dazed 452 looked on. _That must be Terminal City._ She felt a rush of emotions pass through her in quick succession at the scene before her. Anger, contempt, disgust, regret, guilt, sorrow, helplessness, weariness. The feelings all blended into one sombre attitude that made up 452 at that moment, and all she could do was stare numbly.

She felt frozen inside. Eyes Only, her target, her sole purpose of being out of Manticore, the man she was sent to kill, was defending transgenics, 452's own kind. He was scolding the people shown on the news who were raging against something they did not understand. Did Eyes Only understand? _Hell, do _I _understand?_

What were those transgenics doing outside of Manticore? Surely they had to be from Manticore. What other top secret government agency existed that specialized in mass-producing revved-up DNA? So if there really were X-series like herself and nomalies living in this Terminal City place, why weren't they training or completing missions or... or something? Anything? Why wasn't Manticore swooping in and claiming their own? Certainly, they must be planning to save their creations from the predicament they were in?

Or maybe those transgenics in Terminal City were rogues, soldiers gone AWOL. _That's it. That has to be it. Manticore wouldn't let them expose themselves and compromise the rest of us if they were still loyal. Psh, let them save themselves,_ 452 thought with contempt.

But still, she felt a kinship with the transgenics, even if they were rebels. The thought softened her firm resolve a little. She couldn't help it. They were just like her, alone in the world with no place to fit in, except with each other. And at Manticore, but Manticore didn't really promote bonding outside of your unit, and the units were always segregated. X5's stayed with X5's, X6's with X6's, and so on. But they were all essentially the same, with the same origins.

And Eyes Only was protecting them.

Could she do it? Could she kill that man? ..._Of course I can do it! It's my mission! I can prove myself to them. I can do what I was made to do!_ 452 kept her emotions on a short leash and steeled herself for what was coming.

* * *

"Hey, Sketch! You get yo' ass over here!"

Crash was really bouncing that night, and the Jam Pony crew was hanging out after a rough day at work. It was the place they all went to every night to celebrate or relax. It was also a place frequented by those who wanted to forget how hard life sucked in a broken world on minimum wage. Loud dancing music and alcoholic beverages usually did the trick.

"Cindy," Sketchy said casually, smiling and nodding to the dark-skinned woman at a small table near the bar. He eased himself into the seat across from his friend.

"Whatcha got there, fool?" she said as she pointed to a small, thick envelope.

"My latest masterpieces. Just got the film developed." Sketchy grinned wider. "Wanna see?"

"Any shots of Original Cindy? Those she would _love_ to see."

"Well, let's look through 'em, and see what kinda mad skills I got with this baby," he said, hefting his camera and patting it paternally.

Original Cindy rolled her eyes, but grabbed the packet of photos.

"Hey, be gentle with those!" Sketchy yelped when she yanked the pictures out. Cindy gave him a level look before continuing with what she was doing.

Sketchy gave a blow-by-blow description of each snapshot: what they were of, where and when they were taken, and a personal opinion. Original Cindy only half-listened as Sketchy droned on. _He really seems to be takin' this new job seriously_...

After glancing lazily at each photo for about a half hour, Cindy was grateful to see that they were at the end of the stack. Something in the very last picture made her snap back to attention, though, and she cut off Sketchy's rambling abruptly.

"Hey, what is that?"

Sketchy shrugged sheepishly. "Oh, that. Yeah, I know, it kinda sucks, but I was on my bike, and I saw the TV screen on Eyes Only, and, ya know, I wanted to develop my film quickly, so I just took it, and - "

Original Cindy gave him an impatient look and waved away his second round of rambling. "No, no, not the TV screen. What is _that?_ _Who_ is that?" she asked, pointing to a girl with her back turned, facing the TV. Long dark hair hung to the middle of her back. It looked like she was walking with some other guy.

"Looks like some chick. Kinda hot chick, lookin' at those jeans, but I dunno. You lookin' ta score, OC?" he asked with an excited grin.

Original Cindy slapped him upside the head and shot him a sharp glare. "Keep that tongue tucked in, Romeo. What I'm sayin' is, don't that look familiar? Don'tcha think that looks an awful lot like _Max_?"

Sketchy paused thoughfully and examined his picture again. "Huh. Y'know, now that you mention it, it does look like her. A lot," he said. Then his eyes grew sad. "But Cindy, you know as well as I do that it can't be her. I mean, c'mon, if she was back, wouldn't she come to us right away? It's not like we're hard to find, especially for Max. No, that just can't be her." He paused and pursed his lips regretfully before going on. "We're gonna hafta face the facts. Max is gone, and she's not coming back. If she's alive at all."

Original Cindy slapped Sketchy across the face, harder than before. "How can you say that? 'If she's alive.' Of _course_ she's alive! You should know my girl enough to know that she's a fighter, and she ain't gonna let _nothin'_ stop her from comin' back where she belongs! Not even Manticore," she finished quietly and stole a look around the bar to see if anyone had heard her.

Sketchy looked a little ashamed, and a sombre, uncomfortable silence fell on the table. He cleared his throat. "OK, so you think it's Max?"

Original Cindy shrugged. "Maybe."

"Well... what do you think we should do?"

Original Cindy paused for a moment. "I wanna know why my girl would come back and not hit a sista up," she said sadly. "But first we gotta find her. Where did you say you took this picture?"

"Um, it's right outside the new Welcome Centre, see? Before you hit State."

"Uh huh," Original Cindy said absently. She frowned at the photograph and finally nodded with a twist to her lips. "We have to show Logan."

Sketchy looked confusedly at her. "But, what good would that do? I mean, what could he possibly do to find her? The man's great, I mean he helped save our butts at Jam Pony, but seriously, why give him some false hope that Max is in town? It would kill him to lose her all over again. You saw him the first time, right?"

Original Cindy glared at him again. "Of course I saw him, fool! And what makes you so damn sure that it's gonna be false hope, huh? You think we'd be setting him on a wild goose chase? That man would die for Max without even thinkin' 'bout it. He has a right to know she's back!"

"But we don't even know if that chick in the pic really _is _Max! What if it's just some hot new girl in town, or some really ugly chick with long black hair? C'mon, Cin, I didn't get her face in the shot, just her back! We have no clue whether it's her! And I'd personally feel like shit if I told Logan it was Max for sure and then found out it wasn't."

Original Cindy continued to stare him down. Then she sighed heavily, feeling defeated. Sketchy was a stoner and an irresponsible idiot, so she hated it when he was right. It didn't happen all that often, but she had to admit that he was making more sense than she was at the moment. "Aiight, boo. No wild goose chases, no false hopes. I won't tell Logan, but we should keep an eye out for her, see if anything turns up, aiight?"

Sketchy smiled and nodded. "Yup. I'll do my best, with my journalist instincts and resources."

Original Cindy smiled and rolled her eyes again. "One more thing, Sketch. I don't wanna hear you talkin' morbid shit 'bout my girl, ya hear?" She stood up to leave and turned back to face him. "She's strong, she's alive, and she's still out there somewhere. I know it."

Sketchy watched her leave and glanced down at the table, where he saw that Cindy hadn't paid for her drink. He stood up quickly."Cindy! Hey, Cindy, you forgot - Aw, man!"

* * *

_**A/N:** _Hope you enjoyed this chapter and the direction I'm taking. I'm kinda playing it by ear... **Reviews are always welcome!** I love to read what you guys think! OK, now I'm off to plan out the next installment... Wish me luck! 


	7. Friendly Faces

**_Disclaimer: _I don't own Dark Angel. **I only own new characters: **Brock, Tad, Lihn**... and Alec... wait, no, that was just a good dream...  
_**Story: **_Original Cindy has some important news she needs to get off her chest.  
**_A/N: _**Wow, that was awful! I finally got over my latest case of writer's block, and I think my friendly reviewers wishing me luck helped, lol. Thanks, guys! OK, so here's the next chapter. It was getting too long, so I split it into two. Hope you enjoy it. **Thanks to anyone who reads and _especially_ reviews!** I'm serious when I say I love to see what you guys think. Really!

* * *

It was early morning, the sun just peeking above gray clouds of dawn, getting ready to rise and start the new day. All was quiet around the gate guarding the entrance to Terminal City. Nothing stirred, and the only noise was that of a passing bird squawking in the sky. 

The transgenic guards that were posted there that morning swung their eyes towards the shadow moving in the distance. Their enhanced eyesight told them someone was approaching their city. An ordinary? Or a new transgenic? No way to know for sure, so they waited, hands hovering over their guns.

Cindy reached the gate and held up her hands to show them that she wasn't armed. The cold-eyed transgenics simply waited for her to speak.

"I need to see Alec. He around?"

The tall, burly X-4 and the wrinkled, black-eyed nomalie exchanged a brief glance before the X-4 spoke. "What is your name and what is the nature of your business?"

"Jus' tell Alec McDowell that Original Cindy is here to see him. Trust me, he'll know what you're talkin' 'bout."

"Why do you need to talk to Alec? He's a very busy man. He doesn't have a whole lot of time to just _talk,_" the other transgenic said.

"It's urgent, aiight?" Cindy said impatiently.

The X-4 frowned, but held a radio communicator up to his mouth and said into it, "HQ, this is Brock. We have a visitor who requests a meeting with the CO. Says it's urgent."

The radio crackled as a voice on the other side was transmitted. _"Name?"_

Brock glanced over at Cindy again. "Original Cindy," he said, a bit awkwardly.

_"We'll report back."_

"Roger."

The nomalie turned to Cindy. "We're gonna need to frisk you. Standard procedure, you see. No one gets inside packing anything."

Cindy pursed her lips and nodded, holding her arms stretched out to either side. The nomalie moved short, pudgy fingers along her clothes. When the lightly webbed hands came up empty, the nomalie nodded at Cindy briskly.

_"Brock, this is HQ. You're signal is green."_

"Roger that," the big man said gruffly. He faced Cindy and nodded toward the empty street ahead. "Green means 'go'," he said to her. "Unfortunately, Tad and I have to stay here to guard the gate, so we won't be able to accompany you. It's a short walk, though. Go straight up this street and take the first left. It's the big brown abandoned factory building on the right. Has a short-railed balcony on the outside and a fire-escape ladder on the roof. _Thick windows_ to deter thugs." He gave her a brief stern look, as if Cindy might try to throw bricks through those windows to get Alec's attention. "You can't miss it.

"But I should warn you. The city's not as safe as it used to be." Brock's hard face took on a grimace. "With Max gone, different factions have been popping up everywhere, and it really seems like we may have a civil war on our hands soon. I never thought I'd see the day when transgenic fought transgenic, but the streets of Terminal City seem to run with blood now. Be careful. I wouldn't put it past some of the more fanatical types to involve ordinaries."

Cindy was shocked. How could it have gotten so bad? What was Alec doing with the place? _Maybe this wasn't such a good idea..._

The nomalie, undoubtedly the said Tad, nodded to Cindy and compressed his mouth in an attempt at a smile. "If you run into any trouble, just give us a holler. We'll hear you," he added, gesturing to his own pointed ears. "Otherwise, dispatch should have sent out Special Op.'s patrols by now, so help will be around."

Cindy said a quick 'thanks' and set off for the HQ building hurriedly. She and Alec had a lot to talk about.

The main street of TC was incredibly long, and Cindy kept a sharp lookout for an intersection where she could turn left. So far, all she had seen were side-streets and narrow alleys that she didn't dare enter. _'Short walk' my ass!_

The old, dilapidated buildings that made up the whole of Terminal City were rammed together cheek-by-jowl, and in the dim light of a rising sun partially blocked by thick smog, everything seemed dark and dull. The whole place had an air of danger to it. It was like walking in a slummy neighborhood at night with no protection, while every surrounding edifice threatened to collapse at any given moment. _Oh yeah, and don't forget about the biochemical toxins saturatin' the air._ The environment Cindy had put herself into was very disconcerting, to say the least. She picked up her pace.

After she had been walking for about ten minutes, Cindy became aware that she wasn't alone. The light sounds of feet scuffing the pavement made her glance around to see if her company was that of friend or foe. Her searching eyes finally spotted movement in the shadows to her right. Realizing he'd been seen, the figure emerged slowly.

Hard black eyes stared at Cindy from a face just like Tad's, only this one wasn't wearing a Special Operative's uniform. He had no badge, and his eyes held no pity. He sneered at his cornered prey.

"What's a little ordinary like you doing here? Hopin' to score some fame by sneakin' in and killin' yourself a few beastly transgenics?" came a cold, mocking voice from that sneer (which, Cindy noticed, was lined with a row of small but very sharp-looking teeth).

Cindy thought furiously. _What the hell'm I s'pose ta do now?_

"No, I'm here on peaceful business. I gotta find a friend of mine, so if you'll excuse me," she said, making a move to leave.

The ugly transgenic sidestepped, effectively blocking her from proceeding down the narrow road. "Sorry, tootse. Your kind are friends to no one here," he said menacingly. He slipped a slim pocket knife out from a cavity in his dirty coat and flipped out a slightly chipped blade. Chipped, but still razor-sharp, to be sure.

Cindy eyed the blade and swallowed convulsively, Brock's grim words of warning ringing loud in her mind. "Look, I don't want no trouble. I'm here to _help_ transgenics, not bust 'em up."

The nomalie laughed mirthlessly, a hollow chilling sound. "You wanna help? I'll tell ya how you can help. Do Terminal City a favor and die quickly so we'll have one less ordinary to worry about!"

With that, the nomalie sprang at her, brandishing his chipped blade aimed straight at her throat. Cindy's shock lasted only a moment before she kicked him hard in the stomach. Fear and adrenaline powered her kick so that it was enough to knock the wind out of him. He grunted and doubled over, but he recovered quickly and lunged at her again with burning anger in his eyes.

Cindy yelped in pain as the nomalie's sharp teeth sunk into her forearm. She swung her other arm at the top of his head, elbow-down, landing him a hard blow. He released her arm and straigtened, snarling. His open mouth glittered faintly red, and Cindy had to fight the urge to vomit at seeing her blood displayed on the transhuman's vicious teeth.

The predator prepared for another strike, once more aiming at her neck with his blade. Cindy felt like her heart was about to burst from pumping so furiously. Her breaths were short and hard as panic seized her. She was most certainly _not_ genetically enhanced, and there was no way she could fend off this killer with one arm wounded so badly. So that was it. She was dead.

* * *

Alec had been out all morning on patrol. It wasn't his favorite job in the world because it was so dull this time of day, but it beat doing paperwork. And, in his humble opinion, it beat the hell out of sitting on his ass all day, not doing anything while Max's dream of Terminal City was shattered into a thousand shards. He'd be damned if he just sat back to watch that happen. It _wouldn't_ happen, not if he had any say in the matter. 

So he made sure he did have a say by getting in on the action whenever he could. He was well aware that a good general stayed out of the fighting to guide and direct. Manticore had educated the older X-series extensively on the history of war, and that concept was prevalent in all cases, but since when was he listening to Manticore? Screw Manticore, screw history, and screw _directing_. Max never sat back at a safe distance and directed her underlings. Hell, she always threw the first punch!

So today would start with patrolling the streets and would progress with more planning of heists to get much-needed money. Then would come planning renovation projects to keep the citizens of Terminal City busy moving in a positive direction, then he would have to get back to Detective Clemente and check up on negotiations, and then...

Lost in his thoughts, Alec wandered the streets until the unmistakable sounds of fighting reached his enhanced ears. He cocked his head to listen for a second. It seemed this morning's patrol wouldn't be totally dull.

A woman's frightened yelp caused Alec to snap out of it, and he blurred towards the scream.

Alec's eyes widened in alarm and shock at the scene before him. Original Cindy, of all people, was standing, tensed and clutching a bleeding arm, appearing as if she was facing death itself. It seemed that a deadly blow was indeed very close to coming, looking at her assailant and his predatory stance, and the malevolent glow in his hard black eyes.

Without thought, Alec went into soldier mode. He blurred up to the snarling nomalie and whipped out his gun, butting it right against the wrinkled head.

Luckily, the thing stopped in its tracks. He was rooted to the ground, but he still didn't release the knife carefully aimed at the throat of one of Alec's only friends.

"Drop your weapon," Alec ordered in a frozen voice.

The nomalie's eyes darted fearfully over his shoulder. He slowly lowered himself to the ground and gingerly set down the knife. As he started to rise, his legs rapidly slid out in a wide arc, causing Alec to fall to the ground gracelessly. Transhuman spun to face transgenic, and he lunged to attack Terminal City's stand-in leader.

Alec managed to hang onto his gun with one hand and catch himself with the other just before his butt would have slammed painfully into the pavement. He pushed up off the ground with his free hand and sprang into the air, straightening and aiming a kick at the freak's groin, but the freak dodged it and made contact with Alec.

Alec cursed loudly as his fist was stung by sharp teeth, and he shook his hand out as if trying to dislodge the pain. The nomalie came at him again, but this time, Alec's gun was held up in his face, daring him to try anything else. The nomalie froze once again.

"I didn't realize that you actually_ wanted_ to taste my fist, but I'm a pretty nice guy and a fair leader. I try to give the people what they want," said an unsmiling Alec to an equally unsmiling nomalie.

The hard black eyes widened at Alec's final statement, but Alec's swift right hook to the nomalie's face was too quick for him to do anything to stop it. The nomalie flew back about a foot through the air before crumpling bonelessly to the ground in an unconscious heap.

Alec stepped over the out-of-commission crook and approached the shaken-up Original Cindy, who had been silently watching the physical exchange with fear and awe.

"Baby Boo, you ain't got no idea how happy I am ta see ya!" she cried as she gave him a quick squeeze around the middle.

Alec tensed at the affectionate gesture. He wasn't used to hugs, and one that came from Cindy _- Original Cindy! _- was so startling that he had no time to react before she let go. But that meant it was real. She really was there, and he wasn't just imagining it.

He had often daydreamed about his life before the rise of the Freak Nation, as the media scathingly referred to it. He had wished so desperately to see a friendly face from Jam Pony. He would usually fantasize about hanging out at Crash with Sketchy and OC. God, sometimes even with Normal! But in every fantasy, Max was there, so he knew they weren't real.

But OC in the flesh was there, right in front of him. A pause from the doom and gloom of running a dying city. A friendly face that held no death threats against him or unreal expectations. _A mutual friend of Max!_ It was all he could do not to break down and blubber like a six-year-old girl.

Alec felt a sort of barrier break down inside of him. For the first time in months (about three, to be exact), he felt like smiling. Maybe even laughing, or making smart-ass comments! It was a dizzying feeling.

"You're really lucky I was passin' through," he told her with a small smile.

"Psh, Original Cindy coulda takin' that bitch down. She was jus' restin', is all," Cindy said somewhat defensively.

Alec chuckled. "Uh huh. Of course. You were only waiting for the right moment to strike. Like when the knife was a millimeter away from your throat. That woulda worked out well. Sorry to have interrupted!"

Cindy frowned at him. "Once a smart-ass, always a smart-ass, I guess." She paused and ran over his whole body with her eyes, assessing his physical condition, and stopped at his face. Their eyes locked and she said sincerely, "But in all seriousness... Thanks, Alec. Original Cindy was about a second away from bein' a human shish-kabob."

"Hey, what're genetically empowered friends for, right?"

Cindy smiled at him and started to put her hands on her hips, but then the smile turned into a wince and she clutched her still-bleeding forearm.

Alec silently cursed himself for being an emotional moron while his friend was injured. "Hey, that doesn't look so good. We'd better get you to med. base, pronto." He grabbed her good arm and led her away quickly.

"As long as that bitch didn't have rabies, Original Cindy is good. Jus' a cut, really."

"Well then, I guess we need to test for rabies, don't we?"

"S'all good, Baby Boo. Original Cindy don't need - "

"Don't take over the tough chick act for Max while she's gone, alright? I'm not gonna take 'no' for an answer, 'cuz I'm a stubborn asshole, or so I've been told. You're going to get medical treatment. Now."

A shocked silence fell momentarily. "Sir, yes sir," OC mumbled sarcastically. "So the fearless leader ever take _himself_ to med. base?"

Alec glanced over his shoulder at her in confusion. "Well, yeah, whenever I get injured in a street fight. Happens more than I'd like to admit, actually. Why do you ask?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you look like death warmed over."

Alec glared straight ahead, causing a passing group of transgenics to scuttle to the other edge of the street nervously. "Is there a right way to take that, Cin?"

"What Original Cindy means is, you look all haggard 'n' shit. Look, you didn't shave, you got bags under your eyes, which are all red, by the way; your hair's messed up, your clothes look three days worn in. Don't you ever sleep? An' you're all hollowed out! Do you ever_ eat_?"

"Four." Now it was Cindy's turn to look confused. "They're _four_ days worn in, not three. But good guess. I get sleep, and food."

"Yeah, but how much?"

"Enough," Alec said shortly. The rest of the trip was silent.

A pretty, Asian-looking X-6 named Lihn was the head doctor of the med. base. She was young, but very talented, and good talents in the field of medicine were invaluable in TC at it's present state. Lihn smiled and greeted Alec before personally seeing to the treatment of OC's arm.

"All done! As good as new. But I wouldn't lift anything heavy for at least another two hours while the medicine takes its effects. Otherwise you'll drag the healing process and cause a lot more pain in your arm," Lihn told Cindy, whose arm rested in a cloth sling.

"Aiight, suga," Cindy said, smiling.

"Thanks, Lihn. Appreciate it," Alec said genially. Then he turned to Cindy. "Now let's go somewhere we can talk."

* * *

**_A/N: _**OK, like I said above, this segment of the story continues in the next chapter. **Reviews are always welcome! **Happy reading! 


	8. A Picture's Worth A Thousand Words

**_Disclaimer:_** **I don't own Dark Angel. **But this is the place where I get to play with it!  
**_Story: _**This deals mostly with Terminal City, its organization, and Alec's thoughts on all of it, including a couple of memories. And of course, there's the chat with Original Cindy.  
**_A/N: _**I tried to make this one a quicker update, so you wouldn't have to re-read the whole story before going on to this chapter, LOL. This one's kinda long, but I guess that's better than being way too short, right? I know I promised you all some MA action, but it's gonna be slow going for obvious plot complications. But I felt like dipping Alec's feet into it a bit, unbeknownst to our loveable rogue X5. Happy reading! (Ha, there ya go, HYPERLITE.HO. I said it _before_ the chapter started! lmao ;P)

* * *

Alec led OC to the place she had originally set out for, the HQ building. On the way, they passed the unconscious creep who had attacked OC, so Alec scooped up his limp form and carried him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. A groan escaped the transhuman's lips, but that was the only sound he made for the rest of the trip.

The day was getting warmer as the sun climbed higher in the sky. It was going to be a sunnier day than TC had had in quite some time. More people were seen walking the streets than in the past, and Alec couldn't help but smile. If people were openly taking to the streets, it must mean that his Special Operatives' force was getting the job done. A brainchild of his actually working out for a change was a much-needed, if unexpected, sight to his sore eyes.

Most of the transgenics that were out and about darted eyes around cautiously, though. Well, that was to be expected with all the hell taking hold of the place lately. Alec certainly didn't blame them. Terminal City wasn't the safest place in the world, far from it. But he would change that. If it was the last thing he would ever do on God's green earth, he would.

They finally arrived to TC HQ, and Alec saw Cindy's face register some shock at the bustling activity once he opened the massive brown double doors marking the front.

Transgenics and transhumans of every sort walked through the lobby with an air of purpose. There definitely were a lot of purposes they could be rushing to. Upkeep of the broken city was a daunting task, to say the least.

The transgenics running around the command center that they affectionately called their headquarters, or HQ for short, were under-officers rushing to get their daily reports together. These lower-level officers had control over assigned areas of Terminal City. Their whole purpose was to keep their area safe and keep track of the population. Citizens could go to them with any complaints or requests to pass on for approval, so the under-officers were both very popular and very much in danger in their line of work, depending on who made 'requests'. If any situation arose, they would contact HQ immediately and let their personal CO's know.

The CO's were in charge of certain aspects of Terminal City, such as food, medicine, housing, defense, and renovations/restorations. Together they formed a sort of inner circle of command, all of whom were fiercely loyal to TC and their cause. They would handle problems and keep detailed records of what they had and what they needed. They kept files of "shopping" or "Christmas" lists, as Alec liked to call them, and presented them at their frequent meetings.

Finally, the chain of command stopped at Alec. The inner circle and everyone they had charge over answered to Alec, the CO. Not _one _of the CO's. _The_ CO. That was his title, so to speak, developed by everyone who was still loyal to him.

He still felt some of them listened to him out of respect for Max, who had left Alec in charge while she was gone. Alec found it hard to believe they respected his leadership for the reasons Max had given him. He remembered the conversation clearly, even though it was a memory several months old by now.

_"I just don't understand, Max. Why me? I mean, why not get one of the guys who started the whole thing, like Mole or Dix or Luke? Or - or Josh! Anybody!"_

_"C'mon, Alec. It's obvious. You're a natural leader. And, as much of a pain in the ass as you are, I know I can count on you. You've had my back for the past couple years, and I can't think of anyone else who could pull it off."_

_"I'm no leader, Max! I'm a loner. Always lookin' out for Number One, y'know?"_

_Max laughed. "You put up such a tough-guy front, you big softie!" she said, smiling as she hit him lightly on the shoulder. "Besides, everyone in TC loves you. Mole and the others may have come here first, but you were the first one to get them to come together, remember? They had that whole ridiculous notion that X-series should stay here, freaks there. You brought them together. You united them against White and his goons. And you can keep them together if I ever have to leave for a while. You've earned their respect." She looked at the ground. "And mine."_

Alec was still stunned by that confession of hers. He knew it took a lot to make her admit that he wasn't the screw-up she had him tagged as since she met him. She was so strong. Alec had always admired that about her, even when he had first met her in Manticore, before they had developed their weird friendship, if it could be called that.

He knew now that it was more of a mutual respect than a friendship, at least on Max's part. _He_ considered her his best friend, though, but he would never tell her that. Before. He had done some serious growing up in the past three months. If he ever - no, _when_ he saw her again, he would make sure she knew. Life was too short to let people you care about never know. Alec promised himself that he would tell Max that she was his best friend in the world, one of his only friends, before it was too late again.

Much of the Spec. Op's crew awaiting deployment waved eagerly and saluted their leader as he walked through HQ, evidently even more excited since he was wearing one of their uniforms. Alec nodded to them and returned casual waves and salutes, which made them smile wider. He was grateful for their enthusiasm and loyalty, but he still felt a bit embarrassed at their vehement adulation. _Well, they did volunteer. It's only natural to love their jobs. _Alec felt that most of them truly did see him as a general, and he was beloved by his troops. It was only the outsiders who had yet to show loyalty, or worse, outright spat in the face of authority, that had the crew looking sombre as death while they patrolled the streets.

All wore the gold badges Alec had issued for them. Well, gold-plated. Gold spray-painted, maybe. Terminal City's treasury was scraping bare bottom and didn't have the cash to get real gold badges. The important thing was that they looked like gold. That was a necessity, giving them a symbol of authority, however frivolous it seemed on the surface.

Mole, the lizardy resident weapons tech and chain-smoking grouch, had certainly argued against the whole thing. That staff meeting, that particular conversation, was not quite as pleasant as his other memory.

_"Oh, what, are we gonna give 'em pretty pink ribbons in their hair, too? Maybe buy 'em some Rolex watches while we're at it. Hell, we have so friggin' much money to blow, why not buy them a truck from the friendly neighborhood Seattle Fire Department? Then they could parade around and show the rebels who's boss, tails wagging all the while, complete with a lovely siren!"_

But Alec had slammed his foot down. _"That's enough, Mole. I'm not asking for a hundred 24-karat-gold badges and hefty paychecks on the side. These people volunteered, 'cuz they're sick 'n' tired of the way things are becoming here. Like all of us should be. _

_"The lawless people here won't listen to someone who doesn't have sure-fire authority, and just handing them each a gun only makes them seem like friggin' vigilantes, no better than the bullies 'n' scum they arrest. How would it look to the rest of the people if even more 'bullies' and 'street toughs' were poured out to handle the situation? In_ my name_? That small symbol of authority makes them seem safer and more in control than those they fight against. It lets the people know that they are there to _protect_, not harm, and that, my friend, is why we need those badges. _

_"Besides, if you're so friggin' worried about our expenses, maybe you should cut down on your cigar intake," he finished to a speechless, glowering Mole. Dix started clapping his hands slowly. _

Alec snapped back to the present matters at hand as he passed the SIC of the Spec. Op's at his desk, Alec's right-hand man in the law enforcement and his best friend, second only to Max. "Hey, buddy! How's the city lookin'?" he asked amiably as he patted Joshua's shoulder.

The dog-man transhuman smiled back. "Alec! Terminal City looks good. Joshua can paint tonight!"

Cindy's mouth fell open. "Doggie-dog? Whatchu doin' in a uniform?" she asked with a big smile.

Joshua caught sight of her behind Alec and leapt up, almost knocking down his desk in the process, and rushed over to capture her in a bone-crunching hug. "Original Cindy!" he said excitedly.

Cindy started to wheeze a bit before Joshua let her go. She coughed before she was able to speak again, then said, "Josh, one near-death experience a day is all Original Cindy can handle, aiight?"

Joshua smiled sheepishly. "Joshua missed Original Cindy. Joshua misses Max."

Cindy smiled sadly. "Me too, Boo. Me too."

Alec cleared his throat loudly to change the subject. "Ah, well. Josh, listen, I need you to drop this off at the prison," he said, dropping the passed-out nomalie onto the desk unceremoniously. He flexed his shoulders with the weight of the body now lifted and curled his lip in disgust. "He tried to kill Cindy."

Joshua started growling. "OK, Alec. Vigilante bitch is goin' down."

Cindy couldn't stop a small laugh from escaping her at Josh's new use of her old phrase. Joshua smiled again at Cindy. "Talk later, Original Cindy. OK?"

"Aiight, Boo. But first I gotta talk ta Alec. See ya 'round, Doggie-dog."

"See ya 'round, Original Cindy!" Josh called as he picked up the limp transgenic effortlessly and jogged towards the prison.

Alec shook his head and smiled. Then he turned back to Cindy. "OK, let's go to my office."

"I bet you say dat ta all the girls," Cindy said jokingly.

Alec gave a small laugh. "Not so much these days. Here, it's just up these stairs."

They climbed a tall flight of stairs and down a hallway with smooth cement floors and walls, lit by the occasional hanging lightbulb. Alec stuck a tarnished brass key into the lock of a solid metal door painted in the same brown color as the rest of the old refurbished factory.

The door swung open to reveal an average-sized office cluttered with papers and file folders on a thick wooden desk. A green easy-chair with some stuffing coming out at the back sat against the wall to the right, and next to it stood a rickety, tall stand-lamp with a yellow-stained lamp shade that must have been white once. A rather new-looking silver desk lamp added to the light in the room.

Alec had brought that lamp from his old apartment, along with the chair and the television that sat on the left side of the room. The TV was somewhat large to be crammed into his office. His desk took up most of the space, as it should, being the place where most of his work got done. But the TV was a necessity. As much as he would have liked to, Alec refrained from using it as his beloved 'boob tube'. That TV was strictly for monitoring the news and the occasional Eyes Only hack. _Not like we have cable here anyways._

A bulletin board nearby the television was covered completely by overlapping newspaper and magazine articles. Some were highlighted, and all of them had headings that forewarned some talk of transgenics.

The only other things decorating the walls of the gloomy office, besides the large window with the blinds down behind the desk, were domed mirrors in the corners of the ceiling. Their purpose was to warn the current slave of the office that someone else was in the room. It was a 'just in case' precaution that made Max choose that room specifically for her office. Alec suspected that she had foreseen long monotonous hours chained to the hulking desk that would deaden _any_one's senses, transgenic or not.

Alec motioned for Cindy to take the softer green chair and headed for the only other one in the room. "So, Cindy, not that it's not good to see ya, but what are you doing here?" he asked.

The dark woman frowned at him. "Now why does everybody ask that? That's jus' what you're boy down there said," she told him as she pointed to the floor below.

Alec's smile didn't quite reach his gold-green eyes. "Well, OC, Terminal City isn't exactly a vacation resort. The ads would suck!" He spread his hands dramatically. "'Come visit almost-sunny Terminal City, home to deadly biotoxins and transgenics! We have maybe enough money to accommodate another family of four!'"

"OK, OK, I gotcha. So you really strapped for cash that bad?" she asked, frowning.

"Well, that was a slight exaggeration. A family of _six_ would be more like it," a smiling Alec answered sarcastically.

OC bit her lip worriedly. "Look, I bet you could bum some dough offa Logan. That boy is almost as dedicated to this place as my girl."

Alec snorted. "That _boy_," he enunciated, injecting the euphemism with a strong dose of sarcasm, "is strapped for cash himself. All those Eyes Only hacks, and his monthly bills 'n' all, along with being severed from the Cale family fortune, and the guy barely has enough to keep his informants quiet. No, Terminal City will be getting no financial help from the great Eyes Only."

Cindy shook her head at Alec sadly. "Well, there's gotta be _somethin'_ you can do 'bout it."

"We're doing what we can, and we're getting by so far. But you're dodging my question. What are you doing here, OC?"

Cindy pursed her lips. "I had... some news... that I thought I should show you. But you seem ta have your hands full, so maybe it wasn't a good idea after all...," she trailed off uncertainly.

Alec laughed. "You sound exactly like Logan when he knows something important that he doesn't want to share with me. C'mon, Cindy. You came all this way and almost got killed in the process. The least you could do is cash in." Cindy frowned at him slightly. "OK, think of it as a 'thank you' for me savin' your butt." He smiled at her roguishly.

OC smiled back. "I already said, 'Thank you,' Boo. But you're right. I came all this way." She sighed and shrugged the Jam Pony bag off of her back and rummaged through it. Finally, she produced a manila envelope and tossed it to Alec, who caught it and stared.

"What's this?" he asked, confused.

Cindy sighed impatiently. "Just open it!"

Alec held his hands up defensively. "OK, OK!" He lifted the flap and held it upside down, catching the content as it slid out. He scanned the photograph and saw a TV screen in the center showing an Eyes Only broadcast. It was on a street in Seattle that he remembered passing on the way to work countless times back in the day.

Just as he was about to ask Cindy what the big deal about the pic was, he saw it. On the far right edge of the snapshot was a girl, right about his age, with long dark hair facing the TV screen. Alec looked up at Cindy with wide eyes. "Is this...?"

"I don' know. It might be. I jus' don' know, suga. Sketchy took this yesterday, and he showed me, 'n' I thought the same thing. We decided not to tell Logan, just in case, but... I had to tell somebody!"

"Why not tell Logan?" he asked, even though he thought the man deserved it, with all his keeping things from him.

"Well, it might not be her. We got no clue, just from seein' her back, but I can't shake the feelin', y'know? I think my girl might be back in town. If it's not her, Logan'll jus' get his hopes up for nothin', and I can't do that to the man... But it sure as hell looks like her."

Alec's eyes returned to the picture. "Yeah, it sure does," he said absently. That stance. The stiff way she held her upper body. Her hips and legs. Her hands balled into fists at her sides. She looked tense, like a tightly coiled spring. Alec nodded to himself slowly. "That has to be her," he said quietly, forgetting for the moment that he had company.

Cindy stared at him in surprise. "How do you know?"

Alec jerked his head up. "Uh... Look," he said, pointing to the picture."The way she's standing. She's at attention. Like a soldier."

Wonder registered on the dark woman's face. "You're sure?"

Alec felt himself growing more sure by the second. "Yes. That's Max. I'm sure." He didn't want to tell Cindy that he could also tell by the shape of her slender, muscular body. He himself didn't want to ponder that one.

"Oh my God!" Cindy cried happily. "What do we do now? Why isn't she comin' ta see us?"

Alec knew it was possible that Max was avoiding them so she wouldn't lead Manticore's goons to them. That would be such a Max kind of thing to do. But somehow he didn't think so. Alec frowned. Something just didn't click. "How did she get here?" he asked quietly.

Cindy frowned, too. "That's right. She must've escaped. She was Manticore's prisoner for the last three months, right? So if she's here, she must've escaped." Cindy sounded as if she was trying to convince herself more than Alec. "Well, in any case, what we gon' do about it?" She looked at Alec intently, as if he held all the answers. Funny; about a year ago, Alec would have paid to see one of his bad-ass female work associates give him that look. After three months of _everyone _looking to him as if he kept the key to the universe in his pocket, the look had lost its lustre.

"Hate to say it, but there's really nothing we _can_ do. I mean, c'mon. Seattle's a pretty big place. We can't just go around doing a 'Have you seen this girl?' -type thing. Especially not for Max. We'd only draw unwanted attention to her."

"But we can narrow it down, right? I mean, you and I both know that area. So if we just ask around nearby..."

"But who's to say she didn't leave that sector right after the sighting? Especially if she knows she's been made. She'd hightail it outta there for sure, to cover her butt. For all we know, she's not even in Seattle anymore."

Cindy stared dejectedly at the floor. Then she said in a small voice, "But then what do we do? We can't just let this go. This is _Max_ we're talkin' 'bout! She's my family."

_Family_. The word that Max lived by. She would fight and die for family. That word was right up there with 'freedom' for her. They were inseparable, really. You found the freedom to love and to be yourself in your family, but you could only stay together as a family by living in freedom. Max had taught Alec that during their short time knowing each other.

Alec chuckled to himself. _Maxie and her 'f-words'. _

He had never thought of her as a sister. Sure, they were both Manticore, both X5s, but they were from different worlds when it came to both units and training. He wasn't part of her group of '09'ers, and he trained for solo missions and assassinations while she did 'group work', as he had teasingly called it in his days at Manticore. Judging by the way Max treated him all the time, she felt the same way. Alec was no brother to her. Friend, maybe. Family, in a far more vague sense of the term, perhaps. But not 'brother'. That label carried too much emotional weight for Max to use so loosely.

"She's my sista, Alec."

Alec looked at his friend. He knew that Original Cindy was indeed the closest thing Max had to a sister, ever since losing touch with her '09 transgenic ones. He had to respect that. He had to offer some comfort, even if it would prove fruitless.

"Alright. Tell ya what. I'll send some people out undercover to try and track her down tonight, OK? I'll send... I'll send Dalton. And Gem. They've known Max for a while, they'd love to help out. More importantly, they'd be able to fit in. We'll have to cover their barcodes, but it'll work just fine. But only tonight, OC, unless they find a trail worth following some more. Loyal people are getting harder to find. I can't afford to lose two more, even for a few days. OK?"

For the second time that day, Cindy threw her arms around Alec, and he patted her back in the hug awkwardly. "Thank you, Baby Boo."

"It's nothin'," he mumbled. It probably wouldn't help at all.

_Max, wherever you are, I hope you know what you're doing.

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**tbc...**

**_A/N:_ **Okay, guys! Hope you enjoyed it. Let me know, whether you did or didn't. It tells me that my writing isn't for nothing! On that note, I just wanted to let my loyal readers know this: I know this story doesn't get a ton of reviews. I average about 3 to a chapter, but man, I love those 3! I'm not the type of person that demands a set number of reviews before continuing with a story. Honestly, I think that's pretty crappy of people, so I don't roll that way. So fear not, LOL. Even if only one person is reading and reviewing any of my stories, I'll keep it coming! That being said, **please review! It's not a demand; it's a request.**

And I wanted to give a big shout-out **'Thanks!' **to my faithful reviewers over the last 7 chapters: **CandyCentric, HYPERLITE.HO, Lizzie Leigh, Silverwolf 2006, Blue Eyed Dragon Girl, kiwilass, ladyfaith, RIP MuM i love you so much, Jen, and dooski.** You guys are the best! Thanks for sticking with it! I'll do the same. See ya in chapter 9!

Yours truly, christique


	9. Not So Normal

**_Disclaimer: _I still don't own Dark Angel.  
_Story: _**Introducing... Adam Thompson! And his not-so-normal life on the ranch...  
**_A/N: _**OK, guys, it's been forever, so quick re-cap. Max was at Manticore, no memory, and is now on a mission to kill Eyes Only, aka Logan Cale. Terminal City is in poor shape without its leader, and Alec is struggling to keep the place from civil war. Max (going by 452) is in Seattle now for her mission, and Sketchy got a photo of her by dumb luck, and OC and Alec have now seen it and are trying to find her. (Phew! That's a lot to re-cap...) Right. So, I wanna say that I am very sorry for the lack of updates for the past few... months... I've been really incredibly busy with school, work, and marching band. That said, we're thick into the season right now, and I will have just as much if not less free time to write until about November, so I deeply apologize to anyone wanting quick updates. It's not likely to happen. But I hope you'll all find that it's worth the wait! So, enough of my rambling excuses. A huge shout-out **Thank You!** to those of you who read my last update ages ago, and especially to the following awesome people who reviewed the last chapter: **SpiritKez, HYPERLITE.HO, Lizzie Leigh, pepper2bb, CandyCentric, timetowaste247, and dooski. **I just love you guys! Happy reading!

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"Adam! C'mon into the kitchen, honey! Breakfast is ready!" 

Adam Thompson took one last swing at the cutting block, splitting the log there with a resounding crack. He left the axe where it fell and raised an arm to mop his brow of the sweat that hung there in the early morning sun.

It always seemed hot outside on the ranch, but Adam couldn't complain. Buddy and Mary provided plenty of food and comfort, a place to live and sleep, and even a job. It was more than enough from the sweet old couple that treated him like the son they never had, even though he was just a farmhand. No, Adam wasn't about to complain about the heat.

He had gone through worse.

His mind immediately went back to that day at the Seattle hospital that he would never be able to forget. He remembered waking in that hospital bed, feeling so weak and disoriented. He couldn't remember a thing, despite all of Buddy's attempts at explaining. Hard as he tried, Adam _still_ couldn't remember anything about the accident, or even about his life before that hospital visit.

That scared him a little, when he really thought about it. It scared him that he didn't have a past, as far as his mind was concerned. But if there was one thing Adam Thompson really hated, it was the feeling of being weak. Fear was weak, an emotion that just hindered daily activities. And since he couldn't really do anything about his absence of memories, he simply ignored the fear and stamped it down. And then he moved on with his life.

Adam smiled up at Mary from across the yard. He liked Mary. She was nice. She had a grandmotherly face and demeanor, and she was an excellent cook. Adam's stomach rumbled loudly to his sensitive ears. _Breakfast sounds great right now..._

Adam jogged slowly to the door of the ranch house and stepped inside. Mary stood at the stove heaping a huge pile of fluffy scrambled eggs onto a large plate already laden with sausage, bacon, toast, and pancakes. Adam's nose was immediately assaulted with the smell of all the food, making his stomach growl again, louder than before. Mary turned around at the noise and smiled at him. He gave her a sheepish smile and ran a hand through his blonde hair.

"Now, Adam, you go clean up in the bathroom. I won't have you sitting at my table like that," she said firmly, gesturing to his bare chest shining with a sheen of sweat and to his matted hair. "I have some fresh towels in there that you're welcome to use, honey."

Adam almost laughed. Mary certainly ruled this particular roost. She went quickly between badgering him about his sweaty appearance and calling him 'honey.' How could anyone refuse to obey that sweet little lady? So he just smiled and headed for the bathroom.

A few minutes later, Adam had finished toweling off and was seated at the kitchen table with Buddy and Mary. He shoveled the terrific meal down quickly, causing Buddy to chuckle.

"See you've worked up quite an appetite there, eh son?"

Adam looked up from his plate and smiled. "Yeah, I guess I have."

Buddy paused thoughtfully. "How would you like to come with me to the marketplace today, Adam?"

Adam's eyes went wide. "I'd love to," he said earnestly. A change of scene would be really nice. Every day, he only worked out in the field outside the ranch. Buddy went to the market once a week, but he always went alone. Adam briefly wondered why Buddy made the offer he did.

"Good. You can tag along right after breakfast." Buddy sniffed a bit. "And after a quick shower," he added. Mary laughed out loud.

"Alright, alright! I'll go shower! Be right back." He bolted down the rest of his meal and ran upstairs to the shower.

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Buddy parked his rusty green pickup truck off to the side of the dirt road and he and Adam hopped out. They made their way towards the rustic market that bustled with country folk and farmers selling everything from milk and eggs to cows and chickens. 

The place had stores where people could buy hand-made clothing and hand-painted little works of art as well as some simple jewelry, shoes, and everyday odds-and-ends. Other places sold horses, horseshoes, and farm machinery and equipment. Still others offered services of fixing and mending, and then, of course, were the places serving food for their eager customers from all over the countryside.

It was the biggest collection of people gathered in one place that Adam could ever remember seeing. Except for his brief stay in Seattle, that is.

"Awright, Adam. I'm gonna go get some kitchen supplies that Mary's been askin' for. It won't take too long. You can go have a look around if you want, and then you and I are gonna go get some new equipment for the work shed. I been savin' up, see?" Buddy smiled proudly at Adam as he held up a wad of bills. "Anyways, it's some heavy stuff, so I'm gonna need your help, got it?"

Adam nodded.

"Good. Now I'll be right back, awright? You go sight-seein'."

Adam smiled and nodded and left to have a look around. He walked down the road, staring at the shops and at the people in them. He saw several wholesome-looking farm-bred children and teenagers, all kinds of friendly adult faces, and the occasional toothless grin from an old man in overalls and a straw hat.

Adam smiled and nodded at all the friendly faces he passed as he walked. Not having been around much of anyone besides Buddy and Mary for the past few months, the onslaught of people was a bit unsettling, almost like he didn't quite belong there. Still, it made him feel... safe... to be surrounded by lots of people, like he wasn't alone after all.

But the girls around his age shooting him smoky looks and openly admiring his physique was completely unexpected. Adam had, naturally, seen his reflection in the mirror from time to time. He supposed that the opposite sex probably found him attractive, with his blond hair, intense eyes, handsome face, and his... well, perfect body. And currently, he was wearing his snug but comfortable work jeans and a white tank top that fit tightly over his heavily-muscled upper body.

Adam squirmed a bit at the thought that he was unintentionally showing off his... assets. He didn't know what else to do but smile tightly and nod in greeting. He wasn't flirting. He schooled his features to a polite neutrality. The last thing he needed these girls to think was that he was interested. Adam wasn't about to... lead them on? That was the phrase, wasn't it? _Yes, that sounds right. _

The truth was that Adam wasn't really interested in _any_ of the girls around here. None of them stood out to him, anyways. They were all average, ordinary. He simply didn't care one way or another. Besides, he could deal with being alone. He was used to it, or at least he thought he was. Probably a feeling from his forgotten past. Adam was a loner, and that was that.

On the very next street corner, Adam saw a newspaper stand. He made his way over there to see what was going on with the rest of the world. Isolated on the ranch, Adam took every opportunity to see the rest of the world and what he was missing in it.

He scanned the different papers on display until his eyes fell on a Seattle Press copy from yesterday. He eagerly slipped money into the slot and pulled out a copy for himself.

Seattle held a strange hold on Adam's thoughts for reasons unknown even to him. He supposed it was due to the fact that his first memory was of a hospital room in that exact city. He was drawn to it like a magnet. He devoured any news from Seattle, any tidbit of information, that he could pick up.

Adam read the front-page article with avid interest. It was another scoop on genetically engineered creatures called transgenics. This was only the second article he had seen about them, since Buddy rarely picked up a Seattle paper when he went to the market. He probably did that once a month or two. Buddy wasn't too interested in Seattle, but he knew Adam was, so he bought a paper for him when he remembered. Which wasn't often enough for Adam's taste, but he wasn't about to complain to the man who took him in.

The first article he had seen wasn't very detailed and instead uncovered rumors and speculations. This article, however, was startlingly different. It seemed that this time, the press had uncovered iron-clad facts and hard evidence. Adam gasped.They even had pictures! He found himself looking at a wrinkle-faced freak of nature with beady black eyes and pointed ears throwing a grown man in a police uniform towards a dirty dumpster. The article claimed the transgenic had superhuman strength. That much was obvious to Adam, seeing the thing throwing the thick cop with ease.

He skimmed lower in the article. _Wait a minute..._ That article was recap-ing old news for first time readers. That particular story was months old by now. Adam frowned. Hardly breaking news. What was the big scoop?

Adam sucked in a sharp breath upon reading that it had taken six bullets to take down the beast. _They... killed it?_ He didn't know why, but that fact made him suddenly both sad and angry. How could they kill a living thing and post it on the news like a grand victory? Or worse, like no one should care? Like it was old news? Getting a grip on his anger, Adam turned the page to find the spot where the story was continued.

On the very next page was a picture of the most beautiful girl Adam had ever seen. The raven-haired beauty was riding on top of a disc-like machine the caption called a 'hoverdrone,' and she was labelled 'leader of the transgenics' in the article. Apparently, this girl led the transgenic cause in a place called Terminal City. She, too, was a transgenic, a different type called an X series. Aside from that, the newspaper reporters didn't seem to know much about her.

But at the sight of her in the paper, Adam realized that he did know her. At least, he had seen her in the hospital that day in Seattle so long ago. He remembered thinking she looked familiar even then. _Who is she? I've seen her before, even before the accident. I know it!_

A shout interrupted Adam's thoughts. He jerked his head up and saw that way down the street, a big man appeared to be mugging someone. Adam realized in alarm that the 'someone' was Buddy! He weaved his way through the crowd at a run, nudging people aside, many voices around him raising protest, but Adam didn't hear them or bother slowing down. Buddy was in trouble, and Adam was going to help him.

Finally, Adam caught up to the burly man picking the fight and rammed his forearm right up against the man's thick neck, slamming him into the front wall of the shop opposite Buddy. The tough gasped in surprise and gurgled a bit at the pressure Adam put on his neck. Several people nearby now had stopped and turned to look on in shock, awe, and fear at the scene before them.

Adam looked over his shoulder at Buddy, lying helplessly on the ground resting on his hindquarters and hands. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

A wide-eyed Buddy gave his head a small, quick shake.

Adam focused again on the assailant. "What do you think you were doing, messing up an old man like that?" Adam asked in a frozen voice with an equally cold glare.

The man trembled a little and made a wheezing sound as he tried to talk. Adam loosened the choke-hold on his neck enough to let him talk. The man gave a little cough and rasped, "I-I'm sorry! It won't happen again! Just... please! Lemme go!"

Adam glared harder. "What, and let you try to mug someone's grandmother or uncle? I don't think so." The man wheezed again in fright as his airways were closed off again slowly.

Adam jerked as a woman in the crowd screamed shrilly. He saw his victim turning ugly shades of blue and purple and abruptly dropped him to the ground. The man fell in a heap. Obviously, the spectators were thinking Adam was going to kill this man. He would only have gone that far if the man had injured Buddy severely. Adam didn't believe in meaningless death; he only wanted to protect the people he cared about.

"Wha- what the hell are you?" a man from the crowd suddenly asked, pointing a shaky finger at Adam. Adam faced him and cocked his head slightly in confusion._ What am I? What kind of a question is_ _that?_

Someone else spoke up, a hefty farmwife from the looks of her. "You jus' hefted that man there with one arm an' near killed 'im!" she shrieked in a panic.

Adam looked at the man unconcious on the ground. Yes, he was a really big, burly man, maybe a few sizes larger than Adam himself. But Adam recalled how easily he had lifted the man up. He had barely felt it at all. He couldn't really attribute it all to adrenaline. Maybe the people were right. He looked around at all of their frightened faces. They looked about ready to run him out of town. Or wet themselves.

What exactly was he? Was this the superhuman strength he had just been reading about in that article? Was this why he didn't really feel like he belonged anywhere? Was this, perhaps, the reason he felt such a connection to the mystery girl in the newspaper?

Adam gave one last look between the people and Buddy. He knew what he had to do now. "I'm sorry. Thank you for the hospitality," he added to Buddy before turning around and walking away.

The whole marketplace was quiet as death, the only sound being the resounding thud of Adam's boots hitting the ground as he left, kicking up the dust that was the only thing willing to come near him now. No more smiles, no more admiring looks. Adam Thompson didn't belong here anymore.

He grabbed a map from a nearby news stand. Adam would find his answers in Terminal City.

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**_A/N : _**So, once again, sorry it took so long. Hopefully the next update will come sooner, but don't count on it. Sorry! I hope you guys like where I'm taking this. Please, pretty please, let me know people are still reading this, even after my absence, by writing me lovely **reviews**! Keeps me going, you know! (winks) **Thanks again** for sticking with this! See you next chapter! 


	10. Trouble Brewing

**_Disclaimer: _I don't own Dark Angel and I never will.  
_Story: _**452 attempts to pinpoint her target while the transgenics in Terminal City are getting increasingly restless.  
**_A/N: _**Hey, guys! Long time no see. School and work and various other activities have kept me super-freakin' busy, but I finally had time to sit down and work on my lovely WIPs, since it's Thanksgiving break! I know what _I'm _thankful for right now... sleep, and free time. Yessss! Anyways, sorry for the crazy, long wait on an update here. I _love_ those of you who've stuck with this and put up with my horrible time issues! Really, I do! You guys keep me writing. I especially love those of you who took the time to review, so once again, a huge shout-out **Thanks!! **to: **CandyCentric, dooski, HYPERLITE.HO, src13, Eden, timetowaste247, dont listen, Silverwolf 2006, **and **Amiwilson. **You guys rock!

OK, now to clear up some confusion I sensed from my reviews. It's kinda like this. I'm trying to tie up some terribly loose ends S2 and Fox left us with, like Zack, for example. I thought it was pretty crappy of them to shove him off to the side in the series and act like he didn't exist anymore. I personally don't think he could ever live the idealistic life Max and Logan had planned for him by sending him to live on the ranch. He could never fit in, because he's _not _like everyone else, and the end of S2 was all about transgenics finding their place in the world without having to hide or change who they are. I think Zack would have played a significant role in this, or at least had another episode devoted to him in the show, if S3 had been signed on. So I wanted to include that. And yes, you'll see more of him later.

As for the pairing... Yes, I intend to end this with Max and Alec together. It will sort of seem like a Max and Logan pairing for a while, but that's due mainly to plot purposes and conflicts created by Max's memory loss. So the pairing is implied and not physical, for the most part. It's represented in Alec for now. But fear not, fellow shippers. The best with that aspect of this fic is yet to come.

Well, I hope that answered any questions you guys might have! If not, feel free to ask me in a review or send me a message or whatever. I'm always open to eliminating confusion. SO... **Thanks for reading this!** I will now stop babbling so you guys can read what you _really_ came to read.

-- christique

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Chapter 10

After a whole day of searching and asking the right questions, haunting the library newspaper records for suspicious content, and scoping out a few key target locations, 452 had finally narrowed her search down to two locations. In one of them, she would find her target at long last. She was sure of it.

452 had bugged the locations with the slowly setting sun to her back, and she set off to find a place to spend the night. She wouldn't sleep; she simply needed to check out her surveillance somewhere where she wouldn't be disturbed.

452 crashed in some old dusty building and spent the night monitoring the movements of the occupants of both of her possible targets.

By the small hours of morning, it was clear that the first location was actually just home to an older man who took up 'boarders' for rent. However suspicious those people may have looked, they were by no means her target. Perhaps they were criminals, all shady-looking and grimy with shifty eyes, and the owner himself had pockets that bulged with more than money, but their criminal activities were of no concern to 452. She was on a mission, and that mission did not involve saving the neighborhood from pistol-packing drug dealers and their messed-up clients.

The second location, though, piqued her interests much more. The occupant never once stepped outside, and the windows were all painted black. The building had a dilapidated look to it, even though it had a homey front porch with a friendly, if old, staircase leading to a dirty front door.

At one point in the night, 452 was surprised to see a skinny young woman with the hood of her jacket convering her head approach the residence and let herself in. _So, he has a live-in girlfriend, _452 thought with slight annoyance. This had to be it. Her target was inside of that house, she was certain.

452 thought again about her warning from Manticore about her only having three days to complete the mission and contact home base. Two of those days were gone now, and she was already a few hours into the third. _So it has to be tonight. I'm all out of time. _

452 stared at her pocket-sized monitor sitting on the dusty little desk with her elbows resting on its surface. Her hands splayed out in front of her with her fingertips touching, drumming on each other as she sat lost in thought. She had some serious planning to do.

She absolutely could not screw this mission up. It was a test she had to pass if she had a future at Manticore, and she didn't want to think about the consequences involved if she were to fail. So that meant she had to kill that man with the mysterious blue eyes, and possibly his skinny little girlfriend, if she were so inclined to interfere, as some foolish women were.

This would have to be clean and quick. _Huh, as if murder is ever clean. _No, 452 had to separate her rather emotional self emerging of late from the reality of her mission. She wouldn't be able to go through with it if she kept thinking of it as murder, and of her target as a person, let alone a kind man that somehow tugged at her heart. _Stop it, soldier! You have a mission to plan, so focus!_

452 firmed her resolve and stayed put, laying out a plausible plan of action in eliminating her target. _Tonight, Eyes Only. It ends tonight.

* * *

_

"So... you're saying the trail was cold?"

Dalton shook his head slowly. "...Not exactly. We managed to find some Ordinary she'd been talking to. You know, the one in the picture?"

Gem nodded excitedly. "Not cold at all! The kid had really seen Max! And have we got a hot lead for you!"

Alec held up his hands in front of the ginger-haired X5. "Woah, OK! What's the lead? Did Max tell him where she was staying?" he asked with hope tinging his voice. The thought of seeing Max again in the flesh was dizzying.

The younger X6 shrugged uncomfortably. Something about the news was troubling him. "What's the lead, Dalton?" Alec asked again, growing concerned at Dalton's reaction.

Dalton shifted again and looked up from the ground at Alec. "Well, Sir, the kid said Max had been asking... about Logan Cale. And Eyes Only."

"It was odd, though. She also asked about Terminal City, like she'd never heard of the city she runs," Gem added thoughtfully.

Alec felt like he'd been punched in the gut by a really tough X4. Or maybe slimed by a gossamer. He went numb for a moment. So Max was aware of her surroundings. But why on Earth would she need to ask to locate Logan? He hadn't relocated. He was still living at Josh's old digs. And she didn't know about Terminal City? That was impossible. Something was wrong.

_I guess she didn't care to ask about me, then. _Alec knew he had no reason to feel a little miffed about this, but a part of him did anyways. What did she want with Logan? _Well, DUH. _OK, what did she think she was doing, asking about Logan _and_ Eyes Only in quick succession? _So much for being worried about exposure, eh Maxie?_ No, something was most certainly wrong. Max would be more careful than that. Wouldn't she? Alec's head was spinning with unanswered questions and painful feelings.

"Alec?"

Alec snapped out of it and looked at Gem. "Hm?"

The other X5 was eyeing him uncertainly. "Um... that was a pretty good lead, don't you think? I mean, if she's trying to contact Logan, maybe we'll be able to find her at Logan's place. Then we can find out what's going on with her. Right?" she asked him slowly.

"Right. Of course. We'll just have to keep contact with Logan, and I'm sure something will turn up." The transgenics were still looking at him expectantly. "Um, good work, guys," he added.

Both of them brightened and left the office. Dalton poked his head in and gave Alec a slightly apologetic look, for some reason, as he closed the door behind him.

_So Max is back. She's here, in Seattle. And she doesn't want to see her friends, only Logan. But at least she's not locked up in Manticore anymore. She's just... trying to find Logan. Maybe she has something important to tell him. And not me. Which is fine. I mean, why tell Alec when you could go directly to the man with all the resources, Eyes Only himself? Maybe she'll swing by TC when she's done with whatever business she's got with -_

Just then, the door burst open, and a group of transhumans stood sneering at Alec. Alec jumped up out of his reverie and stood alert, frowning at the group in momentary confusion.

"494, we've got some business to discuss," said the transhuman in the middle of the group, an anomalie with wolf's eyes and snout, with matching sharp teeth and furry skin. Right now he was grinning wolfishly at Alec.

"As I recall, we don't go by designations anymore. Fang, right? Whatever business you'd like to discuss surely doesn't require you to break down the door to my office. I'd be happy to talk calmly with you, one-on-one, in private if you'd like. All you have to do is ask," Alec said, eyeing the other six or so anomalies cooly. He tried to keep his voice even; he really didn't like being ambushed like that.

Fang laughed coldly. "Alright. May my friends and I, oh fearless leader, _please_ have your permission to discuss some very important business with you?" he said mockingly.

Alec smiled tightly. "What kind of business?" he asked shortly in a clipped tone that kept his frustration hidden.

Fang's sharp-toothed smile grew wider. "The kind where we discuss the qualities of a good leader. Like strength, determination, firm resolve to get something done, and some _balls. _You know, 494, all the things you've been _lacking_ of late." The transhumans laughed menacingly.

Alec's smile shifted, his anger only given away in the slight curling of his lip. "And what exactly do you think I'm not handling properly?" he asked tightly.

"Oh, how about _everything_?" Fang answered sarcastically, still grinning.

Alec wiped his face of all emotion, just the way Manticore had taught him, into that unbreakable mask he was so well-practiced at. It was the only check he had on his anger. What was this, some coup? "Alright. What do you propose for me to do? Since I'm such a horrible leader, maybe you can give me some pointers," he asked dangerously.

Fang stopped laughing and grinning. He regarded Alec coldly. "You can start by getting the hell out of Terminal City. I don't know what the bitch was thinking making someone as incompetent as _you_ the leader of this rat hole when she left us for dead."

Alec's mask shattered at those cutting words. The anger he had been holding at bay throughout the whole offensive conversation was now blazing as he looked at Fang murderously. Hearing him call Max a 'bitch' made something snap inside of Alec. In a blind rage, he blurred around to the front of his desk and gripped the transhuman in a choke-hold, slamming him roughly against the bare concrete wall of his office. "Don't you _ever_ let me hear you refer to Max like that again. Understand?" he growled.

Even as his windpipes were being closed off by Alec's rough grip, Fang managed to smirk contemptuously at the livid X5. "Go... to hell," he croaked.

Alec mechanically lifted the transhuman up off of the ground and slammed him against the wall again, harder than before. Fang looked a bit surprised that his feet no longer touched the ground; apparently he had underestimated Alec's strength. "Well... looks like... you _do _have some balls after all... eh, 494?" he said hoarsely, attempting to laugh and make it seem like he still had control of the situation. He wasn't fooling anybody in that office.

Alec's icy glare deepened, and he tightened his choke-hold on the anomalie's neck. Fang's eyes bulged as he looked at Alec in the beginnings of real fear.

"I asked you a question. I expect an answer, and you're not going anywhere until I get it," Alec said coldly. "Now. Do you understand?" he repeated slowly and firmly with a very dangerous undertone.

Fang, now turning a strange shade of purple under his lightly furred face, nodded almost imperceptibly as Alec pushed harder on his neck.

Alec slammed him against the wall yet again and got right in Fang's face with his own. "Say 'I understand,'" he intoned icily, his frigid green eyes like augers boring holes into the wolf-eyes of his victim.

Fang made a gurgling noise and Alec relaxed his grip enough to allow him to speak. "I- I understand," he croaked.

Alec abruptly let go and let him crumple to the ground. "Good. Now get out of my office."

The transhumans scrambled to comply, helping a coughing Fang off the ground and scurrying out the door they had only moments before nearly broken down.

Fang turned around once he was just outside the door, clutching his bruising neck and glaring daggers at Alec. "This isn't over, 494," he rasped. "There's a war out there, and instead of fighting, you sit here looking for your _girlfriend_! The Freak Nation needs a leader, and if you're not going to do the job, I will!" He turned and left with the final word before Alec could think to respond.

Frustration pent-up inside of Alec exploded even more violently than it had on Fang. Alec let out a frustrated growl, turned around and punched the wall he had just held the transhuman against as hard as his transgenic strength would allow, which meant the wall now had a crater in it with Alec's knuckles imprinted in the center.

Pieces of concrete and dust fell to the ground, but Alec didn't even hear the noise of the debris. He focused instead on slowing his heart-rate, lowering his adrenaline levels, and calming his breathing pattern. He circled his office with his eyes closed and his hands behind his head, taking calming breaths.

_How could he say those things about Max? After all she's done for this place, and for transgenics altogether? She's given _everything _for this place!_ OK, that line of thought wasn't helping him to calm down at all. Alec took another deep, slow breath. _What the hell am I gonna do now? Those guys can't be the only ones who feel that way, or else they wouldn't have had the guts to confront me like that. Oh, God, this place is gonna dissolve into total chaos if we don't get Max back here to whip it into shape! _

If it came to civil war, though, how would Max even be able to stop the blood from flowing? Nothing could be done to stop them from fighting if that's what they were determined to do. _Not like we could send in a militia to break it up. We _are _the freakin' militia! Hm... Maybe Max could give one of her fancy speeches when she gets back... Damn. I've really screwed things up here... Yeah, Max is definitely going to kick my ass when she gets back. _

Alec sat down at his desk and held his head in his hands, frustrated at the direction his thoughts were taking. Then he heard a quick, urgent knock on his door. Alec growled out loud, "Ohhh, what is it _now_?"

A young-looking X5 opened the office door and looked inside to find Alec slightly raising his head to glance up from his hands.

"Sir! There's a situation at the south tunnel entrance! Your presence is requested immediately!"

Alec groaned to himself. He stood up straight and adopted his Manticore mask again, chastising himself for letting it slip in front of people so often today. "What seems to be the trouble? Is it another attack?" He didn't say from whom. Attacks lately could come from outside or in, or from any number of other places.

"Uh, no, Sir. I haven't been briefed on the details, but the inner circle members present are asking for you. They say it's urgent, Sir."

Alec pursed his lips. "Fine. I'll be right there." _This had better be good, or I'm gonna need something to punch that bleeds more than a wall._

* * *

**_A/N: _**OK, so... what do you think about how this is going? **Feedback is** not only **welcome**, but it also makes my muse dance for joy and forces me to my corner to write more. (Please review! You know you want to...) And **thanks** again to those of you who keep up with this fic! See you next chapter! 


	11. Not Quite According To Plan

**_Disclaimer: _Let's see... Yep, I still don't own Dark Angel.  
_Story: _**It's (finally!) 'Go' time with 452's mission.  
**_A/N: _**Hi, guys! Here's the next installment. Thanks a ton to **dooski **and **timetowaste247 **for the reviews from last chap! As you know, it's greatly appreciated!

* * *

**Chapter 11**

452 sat at her monitor, watching her target's house and trying to pick up on any security or any movement patterns she might be able to determine at the last minute. Really, that was what she was down to. _Last day. I have to get this right. _

She had a plausible plan of action to go by, after trying to work one out all throughout the late night and early morning hours spent in that dirty old building. At least no one had found her during the night she had stayed there. It had served its purpose, and now 452 had to serve hers.

The plan was simple, really. That night she had to gain access to the house, but picking a lock was child's play for 452. Manticore had made sure of that. Then, she would eliminate the target in his sleep, quickly and noiselessly. Once all of that was done, she could return to Manticore to... _To what? Wait around for my next murderous assignment? _

Whatever Manticore had in store for her next didn't matter at the moment. The only thing that mattered was her mission. Now, all she had to do was wait for nightfall and the cover of darkness.

* * *

"He's just there, outside the city perimeter." Luke pointed to the end of the tunnel as he walked with Alec. 

Mole grunted around his cigar. "There was no way we were gonna let him inside to see the CO without an escort, like he was askin' for."

"He specifically asked to see me? Alone?" Alec asked.

"Well... sort of," Dix answered. "He said he needed to speak with the leader, not 'the CO', and he said he needed to talk to _her _in private."

Alec frowned. "Did he give his name? Or his designation? Anything?"

Mole shook his head. "The guy seemed pretty paranoid. He doesn't trust us enough to talk to anyone but Max."

Alec snorted. "Well, that's a bit of a problem right now, isn't it? I'm sure we'd _all _like to talk to Max, but this guy'll have to settle for me."

As they got closer to the gates at the tunnel's entrance, Luke piped up again. "That's him, talkin' to the guard. Phew! Looks like he hasn't caused any trouble yet."

Alec froze when he saw the young man waiting with the guards. "Zack?" he said softly to himself. His rotten mood dissolved into curiosity and surprise. Zack was supposed to be on some ranch, wasn't he? What was he doing at Terminal City? Alec shook off his questions and jogged toward the gate.

Zack looked up at Alec when he saw him drawing nearer. "Are you in charge here? There's someone in there I need to speak with."

Alec hesitated before answering. It seemed that Zack had no idea who he was talking to. "And who exactly are you?" he asked carefully, even though he knew the answer.

"My name's Adam Thompson. I work at a ranch a few miles from the city limits." He paused. "Well, I used to, anyway... But I have to see this girl." He held up a newspaper with Max's picture on it.

The paper was outdated, but Zack... _Adam, whatever..._ didn't seem to know this. _At least he trusts _me _enough to tell me about his situation. Even if he doesn't remember having me in a deadly choke-hold that one time..._

Alec scratched the back of his neck nervously, wondering how to handle this situation. "Ah, she's not here right now..."

Zack looked disappointed and a little worried. "Well, where is she, then?"

Alec looked at his three companions for some guidance. Dix stepped forward. "Actually, we aren't exactly sure where she is. She's been missing for more than three months."

Zack shook his head in horrified denial. "No, no! You don't understand. I _need to see her_. I have to talk to her! Please, it's very important!"

"Look, kid, she ain't here. We can't do a damned thing about it. So either you tell us what you need from her and see if _we_ can help you instead, or you go back to your ranch. Got it?" said a testy Mole around his cigar.

Zack glared. "How do I know I can trust you?"

Alec sighed wearily. "You don't. But something made you come here, Za- ah, Adam. Max isn't here, but she left me in charge, so you can tell me whatever it was you needed to tell her." He fervently hoped it had nothing to do with Brother Zack's rather un-brotherly feelings towards his sister. No way was Alec gonna get in the middle of that!

"Max...," Zack's whisper trailed off in a tone akin to awe. He stared at the ground, apparently lost in thought. Alec began to silently curse himself for letting Max's name slip out.

After waiting for a response for half a minute, Mole grunted, which jolted Zack back to earth as his eyes snapped up.

Zack glanced at the others and then turned to face Alec. He opened his mouth to speak, but as he looked into Alec's face, his eyes locked onto Alec's for the first time, and no sound escaped his lips. He slowly closed his mouth with an expression of wonder and curiosity spreading across his stony features. Zack's eyes held a question, to which he decided to give voice. "Do I... know you? You look... very familiar..."

Alec kept his expression unreadable. He didn't know how to answer Zack. Should he tell him what could prove to be a rather traumatic truth, one Alec personally felt Max should be the one to impart on her brother? _It's not my place to make this choice, damnit! _

Dix, Mole, and Luke were all looking questioningly at their CO. Alec gazed up at the sky to avoid their stares more than anything else. Watching the fiery red glare of the last sliver of sunlight gradually slip behind the evening horizon was soothing and helped him slow his racing thoughts. As he lost himself in the early stars winking in the darkening sky, he let his mind wander.

_So Zack doesn't remember... anything. I may look familiar, but he's confused by me. He doesn't know who or what he is, but he can cling to the distant memory of Max... Well, she's his sister, dummy! Plus, he's got that thing for her... OK! Moving away from _that_ line of thought..._

"Sir! There's an urgent phone call you need to take!"

Alec spun around to see the panting X6 messenger skid to a stop. Apparently, he had sprinted there all the way from HQ, and that was quite a distance, even for a transgenic. Perhaps it really was urgent.

Still, Alec was getting interrupted for the third time in one day, and it was grating on his last nerve. He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "What is it _this time_? Some transgenic cat I have to rescue from a tree? Oh, or maybe yet another uprising in Terminal City. Hm? Did the government decide to nuke the whole city and damn the consequences?"

Not at all thrown off by Alec's sarcasm, the X6 held out an open cell phone and answered with a straight face, "No, Sir. It's a personal contact, Asha Barlow. She said it's about Max."

* * *

452 looked up to the sky and saw the last red glare of the sun sink behind the horizon, leaving a burning line imprinted temporarily in the memory of her eyes. She blinked it away and took some comfort in the stars of the early evening winking at her. 452 could almost forget what she was about to do, looking at the beauty of the night sky. Almost. 

452 sighed and turned to face the other side of the street. The house loomed at her in the dark, its black windows absorbing all the light around it, leaving it encased in a shell of inky dread. She reached into the pocket of her leather jacket and gripped the hilt of the knife, just to reassure herself, and casually strolled across the street.

After a furtive glance at her surroundings, 452 picked the lock to the front door and easily slipped inside, silently closing the door behind her. She moved as noiselessly as a phantom across the room as her eyes adjusted to the absence of light.

The floor was littered with food wrappers and the occasional computer part, and 452 scanned the floor quickly before moving ahead with caution, careful not to alert her prey to her presence. _Hm. For having a live-in girlfriend, mister Eyes Only keeps a pretty messy pad. _She scanned the rest of the room and found nothing of importance, so she proceeded to the stairs.

452 prayed silently that the stairs weren't the horror-movie squeaky kind. Looking at the rest of the house, it really wouldn't surprise her.

She got to the top of the stairs and froze. Someone was out of bed! 452 strained her ears to pick up the unmistakable sounds of somebody using the bathroom. _Oh, great! Just what I need! _452 tried as hard as she could to disappear into the shadows, but invisibility was one skill that Manticore had failed to splice her DNA with. She settled with standing stone-still and holding her breath.

Soon enough, a door opened and light flooded into the hallway from the bathroom down the hall. The skinny girlfriend from before stepped out and rubbed her eyes as she made her way towards her bedroom. _She's blonde. _The thought irritated 452 for some reason.

She waited until the door was firmly closed and counted to thirty slowly before daring to make another move. 452 slunk away from the staircase and padded down the hall to the other bedroom in the upstairs hallway. One of her black-gloved hands reached out for the doorknob and turned it gently while easing the door open with the other hand. The door made a soft squeak once and then no more sound came to 452's ears except the steady rhythm of her target's breathing, sound asleep.

She crept up to the bedside and peered down at her target, lying peacefully in his bed. His glasses rested on the bedside table, along with a bottle of sleeping pills and an empty glass for water. As 452 gazed at the sleeping figure, he rolled over in the bed and resettled his head on the white pillow.

His face looked drawn and tired, and it looked as if he hadn't shaved for a day or two, but for some reason, that seemed normal to 452. Picturing him without the scruffy beard just seemed... wrong. He turned in his sleep again, this time to face away from 452. She felt rooted to the spot. _It's now or never, girl! _

452 pulled the knife out of her pocket and crept closer to the man she was sent to kill. She lowered the knife carefully toward his back, planning to stab through him to his heart so that he'd die quickly and she could leave.

452 pulled the knife back towards her to get more force behind the stab. She started to thrust the weapon forward when the noise she heard behind her made her stop abruptly. 452 knew all too well the sound of a gun cocking behind her head.

"Move and you're dead," came a woman's angry voice. 452 raised her arms up slowly and turned around to face the skinny blonde. The girl's face melted into a mask of shock. "Max! Oh my god! What are you doing?"

452 stared at her in horror and confusion. _What did she call me? _Obviously, the girl recognized her. Panic seized 452. She couldn't fail, not when she had come so close. _No, no, NO! I _have_ to complete my mission! Blondie's gotta go! _With that, 452 snapped out of it and kicked the gun out of the girl's hands, sending it skidding into the bathroom across the hall.

452 turned back to finish off Cale. The blonde grabbed her arm in a stiff grip. 452 gave her a warning look. "Back off, Blondie!"

"Max! What do you think you're doing?"

"I _think _I'm the one holdin' the knife, so you'd better get offa me right now!"

"I can't let you hurt Logan!" the girl yelled while trying to pry the knife out of 452's grip.

452 let out a low laugh. "And just what're you gonna do? _Whine _me to death?"

"Max?"

Irritation fled in an instant, replaced by dread at the thought of her mission gone so badly awry, and 452 spun around to face the bed where her target, who was supposed to unwittingly be in his final hour, was now sitting up and staring at her in wonder. He looked like he was seeing a ghost, but he was anything but scared. The look he gave her could only be described as reverent, like a dream had finally come true. And 452 could only look on in dull terror of the task at hand.

_I have to do this before things get any worse! _452 aimed a kick straight back behind her at Blondie and lunged at Logan in one fluid motion. She heard Blondie grunt in pain and saw Logan's already wide eyes widen even further and twinge with fear, looking as if they could pop right out of his head with the slightest movement.

Logan tumbled out of his bed and 452 landed on top, pinning his free hands down with her black-gloved ones. She quickly transferred both wrists to one of her slender hands in a bruising grip and used her other hand to fetch the slim blade from her pocket. She raised the knife and held it poised tightly over his chest. She willed her hand to make the swift downward plunge, but it seemed 452 had lost control of her own body. The knife, and the gloved hand holding it, hung suspended in midair.

452 lost herself in the man's blue eyes. As she knelt on top of him, effectively cutting off all movement, his eyes pleaded with her and questioned her with hurt and betrayal, amongst a myriad of other emotions she would probably call 'love', 'joy', and 'relief', if she knew what they looked like or if in her mind she could put them in the eyes of a man with a knife held to his chest. Confusion and happiness, pain and excitement, fear and awe. It swallowed her whole.

Once she was totally submerged, the memories assaulted her in the same way they had before, washing over her like a tsunami and leaving her bare and vulnerable. Images of the man before her chased each other, flashes of him dancing with her, smiling, laughing, holding a gun to himself, blocking a doorway with a bottle of liquor in hand, stroking her face, kissing her, playing pool, Eyes Only, Streaming Freedom Video Bul... _Too much! Too much! Make it stop!!_

452 snapped out of her trance and heard a cell phone snap shut. Cold sweat dripped down her face as she spun to see a frightened Blondie pocketing the phone. 452's expression of fear and confusion made Blondie soften a little. She looked like she felt sorry for 452, like she was considering the consequences of trying to physically comfort her.

Having that Ordinary girl look at her that way was more than 452 could take. Without warning, she threw the knife into the wall behind Logan's head with a loud _thchunk!, _making him sqeeze his eyes shut in alarm,and stood up, stifling the urge to steady herself with a hand on the wall. No sound surfaced in the room. It was as if no one even dared to breathe, and the tension in the air was palpable.

Blondie and Logan stared at 452 in wonder and terror as she stood erect in the middle of the room, not really seeing anything as she gathered her wits. _The mission! Remember your mission! You can still do it! Who needs a knife? Smother him with the pillow, o-or snap his neck! _Any_thing! Just KILL HIM!_

For an instant, colors swirled in her head once more, a flash of the memories from before, finished in the blink of an eye.

_I can't do it._

That simple thought was all it took. Eyes front, she quickly walked out through the bedroom doorway without a backward glance at Blondie or at the man she just couldn't kill.

* * *

**_A/N: _**Thanks so much for reading this! I really hope you liked it. If not, that's cool, too. Regardless, if you feel so inclined, reviews would seriously make my Christmas brighter! And help spur on the next chapter, which I predict will include the first real Max and Alec encounter that you've all been waiting for. If you don't hear from me soon, have a wonderful Christmas! It's definitely my favorite holiday. Who wouldn't love two weeks off from school? Well, see ya next chapter! 

--Christique


	12. Something To Hold On To

**_Disclaimer: _I don't own Dark Angel. Yet...  
_Story: _**The big reunion of Max and Alec arrives!  
**_A/N: _**I want to give a huge **Thank You! **to those awesome readers who took the time to review: **a reader, rogue20, timetowaste247, dooski, Lizzie Leigh, RRaine, mel,** and** src13.** You guys are amazing! Your kind reviews really helped inspire me to write this chapter. I hope I did it justice... So here's the next installment! Happy Reading!

* * *

Alec's breathing came in short bursts as he made his way to Logan's as fast as he could. He looked down at his watch. _Damn! Asha called me five minutes ago! I'm not gonna make it in time! _

Alec saw the place ahead and blurred up the driveway, leaping up the stairs to the front door two at a time. The front door was unlocked, and he pushed it open roughly and headed for the next staircase.

He felt like his heart was about to beat right out of his chest. He could feel the throb of the blood forcibly pumped through his body at this stressful exertion. It had only in part to do with the running; the fight-or-flight responses kicked in inside Alec's body mostly because Max was just inside this building, according to that awful phone call. 

Alec reached the door to Logan's bedroom and stared in confusion at the scene that greeted him. He hadn't known what to expect, but it certainly wasn't Asha on the hardwood floor cradling a traumatized Logan in her arms.

The pair looked up as Alec stepped into the room. Logan's eyes were wide in shock, as if he'd seen a ghost. Asha just looked sad and scared, like she was on the verge of crying. Alec, though, had no time to waste on analyzing the pair of Ordinaries.

"Where's Max?" he asked, looking frantically at Asha.

The blonde swallowed roughly before meeting Alec's eyes with her own pleading ones. "She – she's gone, Alec. She just got up and walked away!"

Alec scanned the room in growing confusion, trying to process what she was telling him. "What the hell happened here?"

"Max, she came here, and she…" Asha trailed off slowly.

Logan spoke after a quick shake of the head. "Sh-she left. She just… left. …You just missed her," he added, staring in disbelief at the floor.

Alec was still confused, and he asked with a frown, "But, what was she doing here in - "

"She was trying to kill me." Logan stared up defiantly at Alec, as if daring him to make some sarcastic remark.

Alec, though, was in no mood for sarcasm. "But… she didn't. Why did she stop?"

Logan snorted a derisive laugh at Alec. "How should I know? She just did. She… she had a knife, and then she chucked it into the wall all of a sudden. Then she left. That's all."

Alec's mind felt numb. "Did she say where she was going? Leave any sign at all?" He had a feeling he knew the answer, but he felt it was his obligation to ask.

Logan just stared at the floor again, once more lost in thought, and Asha shook her head.

"She got up and walked away," she repeated softly.

Alec swallowed before he was able to speak again. "Then I have to go find her," he said as he turned to leave.

"Alec, wait!" Alec spun around to face a pleading Asha. "It's just… She's not the Max you knew anymore! …She's dangerous! Please, Alec, just let her go!"

Alec narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you crazy? I'm not gonna 'just let her go', not after all this! She's confused, and she needs a friend now more than ever, and you want me to just leave her alone?"

Logan seemed to snap out of it and looked up at Asha as if seeing her for the first time. "Look, just 'cuz she came here with a knife doesn't mean she's not Max anymore. We can still get her back! We just have to go find her!"

Asha looked guiltily at Logan and Alec from the floor.

Logan began to stand up. "C'mon, we have to get going. She only left a short while ago, but she's fast." The older man gathered up a coat and started to strap on his leg-enhancing exoskeleton.

Alec barely stopped a derisive snort of laughter of his own at Logan trying to tell him all about how fast Max could run. As if Alec didn't know how fast any Manticore alum could undoubtedly go. But Max didn't have a whole lot of time, and he wasn't about to waste any time arguing with Logan over petty issues of pride.

"Logan, what're you talkin' about? You can't do this," Alec said with a light but firm tone.

Logan glanced up from his legs. "What do you mean, I can't do this? Of course I can. It's Max we're talking about."

"Right. Max, the girl who can't cough in the same room as you without giving you a deadly virus specifically designed to fit your DNA sequencing." Logan glared bitterly at the blunt transgenic. "Plus, to put the black icing on our metaphorical cake, she's actually _trying _to kill you! Do you have a death wish? Because if you go chasing her down like some selfless knight in shining armor, she's gonna be forced to reconsider the whole killing thing, and it might not go so well for you that time. Are you willing to take that risk?"

"For Max, yes!"

Alec glared as he said, "OK, so let's say you come, she sees you, and goes into her trained 'attack mode' again. She touches you, you get the virus, and you die. Or, she just kills you with that knife of hers, or with some gun she found lying around. Either way, you die, and it's her fault. Do you honestly think she's ever gonna forgiver herself for that?"

Logan kept a silent glare in place as he stared at Alec defiantly.

"I don't, either. I know her too well, and I know what Manticore can make people do."

"Not even Manticore could keep me from Max," Logan persisted.

Alec lifted his face to the heavens for a moment and closed his eyes, fists clenched at his sides, before returning his intense gaze to the older man. Max didn't have time for this! "Logan. You love Max. I get that. What I need _you _to get is that you would only get in the way here. The last thing Max needs right now is to see you all over again, making her either kill you or bolt. We both want to find her, right? Keep her safe? Well, if you really want her to be safe, stay here. I'm not gonna say it again." Alec turned to leave.

"Alec."

The transgenic paused before reaching the door, not bothering to turn around.

"Just... call me when you find her."

Alec looked over his shoulder at the resigned defeat tinging Logan's voice. His lips formed a line that tilted upwards at the corners ever so slightly, the closest thing to a smile he could achieve right then. He nodded at Logan with grateful eyes.

As quickly as he could manage, Alec blurred out of the old house and down the street, chasing after any signs of Max.

* * *

452 managed to keep her pace to a brisk walk until she exited the house. As soon as the front door opened to the outside world, though, the realization hit her that she couldn't go back now. She could never undo what she did just then. Or, rather, _didn't_ do. Suddenly, the future seemed murky, and fear reigned over every other confused feeling creeping inside of her. Of their own volition, her feet picked up the pace until 452 discovered that she was running, sprinting, as fast as she could. The world blurred by in a whirlwind of twilight, and 452 passed without seeing. 

Finally, she pulled her feet to a desperate halt when she reached an abandoned-looking old building near the outskirts of town, as far away from her target as she could get. She slipped inside and saw with relief that it was empty.

To have something to hold onto, 452 found a welcome distraction in studying her surroundings. A quick run-through of the place turned up an unlit bedroom on the second floor. It hadn't been used in years, as far as 452 could tell. A layer of dust coated everything, and a musty smell filled the air. There were even some cobwebs hanging untouched from the rusted-over light fixture on the ceiling. Just as well. No one would come to find her invading somebody's home.

Whoever had lived there had left in a hurry. They hadn't bothered to take their furniture with them, because most of it was still there. The room had a bed and a dusty lamp and a cramped wooden writing desk with a small wooden chair to match.

452 wiped a finger on the seat of the chair and looked at her dust-covered fingertip with her night vision. She moved to examine the dark bedspread. The cloth was patterned in dark green and burgandy, but it did nothing to hide the large coffee stain in the middle, or the ever-present dust coating.

She grabbed the ends of the spread and gave it a quick, hard shake, sending a cloud of dust into the air that made her sneeze several times before it settled on the floor. She sat down gently, and the bed was mercifully soft. Now that she was alone, maybe she could get her head straight.

452 was so scared. She was contemplating the possible courses of action available to her at this point in her flop of a mission, but she just couldn't think of anything that made sense. Or anything that she was willing to do.

_Why couldn't I just _kill_ him?_ She was thinking with desperation, trying to dissect her mind in its resolve to leave the mission, the entire reason for her existence in this city, unfinished. But the fact that she had never been trained in human emotion and fear was, once more, all too keen in her mind.

452 wished she had a friend to talk to, someone who could make all of this make sense, someone who could understand how she felt and could comfort her. She was badly missing her transgenic brother.

_I couldn't make myself do it._ Sympathy for a target had never, ever been a factor to consider at Manticore. A target was a target. You eliminated targets. You did _not_ think about what kind of pain they were in, seeing you standing above them, clutching a knife aimed at their chests. You did _not_ have haunted dreams about their scruffy-bearded faces, as realistic as if they had actually happened; dreams of you dancing with them, kissing them, having them comfort you while you were scared or sick with seizures.

_How could those really have been just dreams? They felt so real, like memories._ Not like 452 had many of those at all, but she knew these were no ordinary dreams. Flashbacks. They were flashbacks, never more than a couple of seconds in length, spiraling through her guilt-wracked brain. Flashbacks to another life that somehow involved the man she was sent to kill.

This thought terrified 452 even more than the flashbacks themselves. Who exactly was that man? How did he know her, for surely a look of sad recognition crossed his face as he beheld the sight of her ready to stab him? Why did Manticore want him dead? _Why was he kissing me?_

Fear, guilt, and frustration climaxed to a painful level. She couldn't remember, and now she couldn't move forward.

Sobs shook her whole slim frame. 452 didn't notice the tears making tracks in the sweat on her face that came with those dreams, those flashbacks. She was too busy trying to make the pain and frustration go away. Maybe, just maybe, if she cried hard enough, all of the pain would drain out of her until she had nothing left inside. Then she wouldn't have to feel anything ever again.

452 knew that planning out her next move would have to wait until she could calm down and think logically, but she couldn't see that happening any time soon. _Sleep. Wake up and then maybe you'll be able to think clearly._ But sleep would almost certainly bring dreams of Logan Cale. Nightmares. Sleep would not be restful at all.

So instead, 452 curled up on the bed in the dark room, hands hugging her knees, forehead resting on them, in a fetal position. Silent tears slipped down her copper cheeks, her slight body gently rocking back and forth. No thoughts. If she didn't think, she wouldn't hurt. That way, she could calm down. Find peace. _No thoughts.

* * *

_

Alec sprinted down the city streets at an inhuman speed. It had been all he could do not to stand still and breathe in large, selfish pulls of oxygen when he had first detected the fresh and feminine scent that was uniquely Max flavoring the air nearby Joshua's old house. But the urgency of the situation called him to keep moving. He chased her scent halfway across the town and knew that she must have been blurring along with a sense of urgency of her own. Not that he could blame her.

On the way, Alec cursed and called himself nine kinds of fool, summoning all the expletives his mind could conjure. Why hadn't he realized what was going on sooner? Looking back at everything, it seemed so obvious. _Of course Manticore would brainwash her, you idiot! You were just too wrapped up in your own little drama to notice! Self-pity and stupid, blind jealousy!_

Jealousy? What did he possibly have to be jealous of? He was the perfect human, designed to be gorgeous and deadly. _And yet you still threw yourself a pity-party when Max was looking for Logan and not you. She wanted to find him so she could _kill him_, you brainless, ignorant ape! If you had been able to properly detach yourself emotionally from the situation, you might have been able to stop it all and brought her back to TC before the shit hit the ceiling fan!_

Alec forced himself to stop driving deeper into self-pity and to focus on the task at hand. _Max... where could you have gone?_

All of a sudden, the scent broke away from the street and an old building commanded Alec's attention. Without faltering, he raced inside the structure and paused to familiarize himself with the new surroundings.

The building had a curious smell, a mixture of must and decay with the new addition of the fresh and lively scent of Max. Dust seemed to be the only permanent resident, and Alec quickly realized that Max must be upstairs.

He climbed the steps with renewed vitality, but he took care to keep silent. He didn't want to freak Max out by barging in on her, and frankly, he didn't know what to expect from a brain-drained Max. His soldier mind offered a clipped warning: _Tread with caution._

Alec slowed his step as he heard a sharp sniffle coming from the first room to the right. He peered inside and hoped fervently that whoever was there couldn't hear the hammering of his heart in his chest.

All it took was that one look into the room, and the sight of her there stopped any movement of his body, his heartbeat, his breathing, his brain activity, everything. The sight of her, just sitting there, pulsated throughout his entire body, taking over for his previously hammering heart. Max pumped life into him he never knew he was missing. She was all he was aware of.

Abruptly, Alec was aware of her actions, beyond just her simple presence. His heart constricted at seeing Max, the strongest person he ever knew, curled in a fetal position on the tattered bed, completely dissolved in tears.

He didn't know he'd moved until he found himself sitting on the bed next to her, gently wrapping his arms around her sobbing, shaking form. Max made no protest, so Alec leaned further into the embrace, absorbing the violent movements of her sob-wracked body with his own.

He pulled Max closer until he held her completely in his arms, in his lap, her back against his chest. She felt so soft and fragile, like a porcelain doll. He'd never imagined Max could feel so vulnerable. It only made him want to comfort her even more.

His arms circled her waist and felt the slick tears slide over them in quick succession. He lowered his head into hers just enough to allow him to plant a small kiss in her hair and rested his cheek on the top of her head, all the while rocking back and forth gently as if soothing an infant. Max's shaking slowed down and Alec felt her body relax into his, leaning into him and laying back on him like a warm pillow.

Holding her gently like this felt so natural to Alec, even though the Max he knew would rather be held by a cactus. Still, it made him realize something else. She was his best friend, and so much more. She was everything he would ever need, and he wanted to keep her safe in his arms like that forever.

The power of that revelation sent him reeling, even as he held Max, but he refused to throw it away. He couldn't deny it, not while the truth was so glaringly obvious. Alec wanted to stay like that forever. He wanted to _be with Max_ forever. His arms tightened around her, and he placed another soft kiss on her head as a sense of calm washed over him.

After a few minutes of silently resting in that position, Max stirred in his lap and finally turned to see who was holding her. Her tear-streaked face tilted up towards his, and red-rimmed, watery brown eyes widened as they met slightly hollowed-out, sleep-deprived hazel ones.

Max turned fully in his lap and stared in wonder at his face. A few more tears slipped out of the chocolate orbs as they widened, and a small sparkle restored some life to them as she reached slowly for Alec's right hand with both of her slender ones.

Alec found that he was unable to speak, or make any noise at all, as she lifted his hand and gently held it to her face, pressing the palm lightly against her cheek, a small tremulous smile alighting on her lips. Alec's heart caught in his throat, and he felt his own eyes start to water, threatening to spill over in a very un-masculine manner.

But he couldn't help it! Here she was, Max Guevara, in his arms and caressing him, looking at him with love in her eyes. Alive. _God, she's alive!_ He felt like laughing! Indeed, as he blinked tears out of his eyes, a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. Alec's hand started to tremble as it brushed against her silken skin.

Max noticed his shaking hand, and her eyes darted to it for an instant and then back to his face, shooting him a cursory glance with a slight worried frown. "What's wrong?" she asked in a small voice that came out as more of a croak through a throat raw with old sobs.

Alec shook his head slightly and swallowed a few times before responding in a soft voice, "Nothing. Absolutely nothing." A half-sob, half-laugh broke through his composure, and it turned his features into a kaleidoscope of smiles that broke and reappeared as he continued to try and swallow the lump lodged in his throat.

Alec felt Max's arms twine around his middle, wrapping him in a hug, her head resting against his chest. He felt her breath on his shirt, right by his heart. He returned the hug and took in her scent he'd followed with a long slow breath. A few days ago, Alec thought he might never get to have her heady scent fill his lungs ever again. And now she was here in his arms.

"You found me... I've missed you...," she spoke in a soft and tired voice that was muffled by his chest.

Alec's heart soared. "I've missed you, too. More than you know."

She let go of him and turned around in his lap in a slow, dreamlike speed, so that her back was to his chest again, and she pulled a confused Alec's arms around her waist, just as he'd held her before she'd turned to face him. She started to shiver in his embrace, and he held her tighter without thought, automatically cradling her and rocking her gently.

"Max..."

Abruptly, she started crying again, and she spoke between sobs as if that had opened the floodgates. "I-I'm so scared! I couldn't do it... I couldn't kill him! ...What do I do now? ...so lost... What are they gonna do to me?... ...Why was he kissing me, Ben?!"

Alec felt numb and strangely betrayed. His stomach turned; he felt somewhat queasy. The room that had held such warmth and wonder now became a frozen wasteland, the dead of winter and all of Earth's ice and snow gathered into a single small space, instantly turning Alec into a being of frosty hopelessness. It seemed that Max hadn't missed Alec, after all. It seemed she had no idea who 'Alec' even was.

But even frozen inside, the candle he held that burned for Max wouldn't be put out. He couldn't bring himself to shatter her here, rip her from this moment of comfort with her 'brother'. He knew it was wrong, but it was the only option.

Alec kept his arms around her, cradling her still. "Shhhh, shhhh. It's OK, Max. Everything's gonna be OK," he lied.

"Don't leave me, Ben! Don't go back just yet...," she implored in a bone-weary voice tinged with ebbing fear.

"I'm not goin' anywhere, Maxie." Alec stared dully at the mattress, feeling a part of himself die inside as she failed to realize who it was comforting her in her greatest hour of need.

* * *

**_A/N:_ **Yeah, I know! Evil of me, but the angst won out in the end. This story is sort of writing itself, so I couldn't really help it. But fear not! It can't be totally angst all the way through, or I'd end up depressing myself, too. Anyways, **thanks for reading!** Reviews are always more than welcome. Please, let me know what you thought about this. It helps me improve the story and motivates me to keep going with it. 

See ya next chapter!


	13. A Decisive Action

**_Disclaimer: _Lemme check... ... ... Nope. I still don't own Dark Angel. **...Damn...  
_**Story: **_Logan receives a toneless phone call from Alec, and Max - I mean, 452 - um... well, you'll just have to read.  
**_A/N: _**Hey, all! I'm back! After getting seriously depressed from my last attempt at posting a story on this site (it's called **Stranded! **and it's one of my best, but no one could read it...), I wanted to wait for the site's problems to blow over before trying anything more. I think the storm has passed now, so hopefully you guys can read this before it's forced to the number 10 story spot on the main DA page. (Phew!) That said, I would like to thank the lovely readers who've reviewed. A HUGE **Thank You! **to: **timetowaste247**, **Mittel**,** Lizzie Leigh**,** dooski**,** src13**,and **Ellie**. You guys are so awesome, and you keep my fingers at the keyboard!  
...That concludes my rambling/complaining author's note. Happy Reading!

* * *

**Chapter 13**

Logan sat on his bed by the phone, staring dully at the wall. He absently heard Asha's even breathing in the back of his mind. She'd insisted on staying in his room for the remainder of the night, and Logan was too drained to argue. He didn't mind her presence, though. It was a source of solid consistency he could cling to as he lost himself in his dark and wandering thoughts.

It was so hard to believe that a mere hour ago, the love of his life had been in his bedroom after all their time apart. The harder pill that he just couldn't seem to swallow, though, was the knife she'd held above his chest.

He wasn't fooled. He knew that Manticore had obviously done something serious to mess with her head. It was like the time they'd tried to make Zack kill Logan, brainwashing him into thinking that he was Zack's and Max's enemy. _Yeah, and look how _that_ turned out. Zack, sent away to some ranch to live out his days in blissful ignorance. _But this was Max, the woman he loved more than life itself. Logan's fist shook in frustration. _I just can't do that to Max!_

Logan glanced down at his watch for the hundredth time. Yes, it really had been an hour. Where was Alec? Surely he would've caught up with Max by now. He was, after all, a transgenic just like her.

Logan cringed. Just like her. He'd noticed something unsettling tonight that he hadn't taken the time to dissect. The two Manticore alums that had come to call tonight... They had the same eyes. Well, they had their differences, of course. Max's were large brown pools a man could drown in, and Alec's were a little smaller, of a hazel color. Normally, a bright fire could be seen burning in Max's eyes, and Alec's gleamed with mischief and amusement, two pairs of eyes as different as eyes could come.

But tonight, Logan glimpsed a terrifying similarity there. Tonight, their eyes held a mechanical soldier's frosty shield. Max's shield had broken a few times as she'd straddled Logan with that knife, but the rest of the time, he stared into the eyes of a trained killer. Alec, in turn, had come into Logan's room with a commanding presence and had argued his case to find Max by himself with a look of such unfeeling, robotic intensity that Logan had had no choice but to submit. Alec had beaten him down by the sheer force of his will, and Logan suddenly knew what it was that had made 494 one of Manticore's finest soldiers.

Logan bristled as he contemplated just how much will Alec held of late when it came to Max. The man had started out not caring what kinds of tests Manticore ran on Max, and then suddenly he had to be the one to bring her back to safety? It didn't make sense.

Logan mentally shook himself_. What the hell is taking Alec so long? Did he forget that he said he'd call me_? It was likely. Alec was, after all, the world's biggest screw-up_. Or maybe he just 'forgot'. Maybe he's with Max right now and he's just taking his time_...

The angry thoughts feeding each other came to a sudden halt as the phone rang. Logan snapped back to reality and fumbled for the phone excitedly, his heart racing. "Hello? Alec?" he said hurriedly into the phone.

"Yeah," came the dull reply.

"Did you find her?" Logan asked, skipping all formalities and cutting to the vital chase.

There was a pause on the line, and Logan heard the man on the other end sigh quietly. "Yep."

A sense of forboding came over Logan. He really didn't like the tone of Alec's voice right then. Or rather, the _lack_ of tone. "Is she all right?"

"Physically or spiritually?" Alec replied with a dose of sarcasm.

"What's wrong?" Logan asked, feeling panicked.

"Huh... She's fine, Logan. She's just got some... amnesia... to deal with."

Logan felt his heart rate calm just a little. Max was all right. Physically, at least. As for the amnesia... "What did she say?"

There was a long silence. "She didn't really say anything. She's sleeping right now. I'm gonna take her back to Terminal City."

"You're _what?! _You can't just take her away! She needs help! You can't expect her to run the city for you again, just 'cuz she's here now!"

"Of course she needs help! She doesn't even know who she is! You think I need her to run the city? I've done just fine by myself these last three months, Logan. I can do it for another three if I have to." There was another pause on the other end. "Max needs to be kept safe now more than ever. You think it ends with her deciding not to kill you? Manticore is gonna want their little soldier back. You think you can stop them from taking her all by yourself?"

Logan felt a growing anger. Alec obviously didn't give a damn about Max. He wanted to keep her for observation or something while he continued to run her city with all the pomp and circumstance of the position_. "I can do it for another three if I have to." _

"So, what, you take Max to your apartment and let her recuperate, away from all of her friends and family? Are_ you_ gonna feed her memory back to her? Are _you_ gonna stand at the door with a shotgun while White and crew come to steal her back? What good would that possibly do her?" Logan asked angrily.

Alec hesitated before answering. "First of all, Logan, I_ am_ Max's friend, as much as you don't like to admit it. Second, she's gonna get her memory back by herself. She doesn't need my help with that. And _third_, it'll be me, Joshua, Mole, Luke, Dix, Gem, Dalton, Brock, Tad, Chase, Trina, and every other transgenic big enough to hold a shotgun. ...White wouldn't risk it. He's turned away before," Alec responded in a cold, determined voice.

For the second time that night, Logan had second thoughts about the roguish transgenic. Perhaps the responsibility of running Terminal City in Max's absence had helped Alec to mature. Perhaps he finally did care for people other than himself. Or maybe it was just Max.

"Where are you now?"

"We're in some abandoned building on the edge of town. Not too far off from TC."

"I want to see her."

"Logan, you've gotta give 'er some space, man! She just took a really heavy blow tonight! She's scared and confused, and you showing up would only make things worse," Alec said matter-of-factly. He sighed again and continued in a gentler tone, "She needs some time to find her way back. You just have to be patient. ...We _all_ do..."

Logan swallowed painfully as he heard a click and a dial tone.

* * *

Alec sighed and pocketed his cell phone. He glanced over at the sleeping form on the moth-eaten mattress. Max looked worn-out. Her eyes were still puffy from crying, and her honey-colored cheeks still had tear streaks on them. She sniffled in her sleep. She looked so innocent and vulnerable, so weak and fragile. This was the worst condition Alec had ever seen her in, both her appearance and her demeanor. 

She was gorgeous.

Alec felt his heart throb painfully as he watched the troubled angel sleep an uncomfortable sleep borne of grief and dead exhaustion. What he wouldn't give to take all of her pain away... He prayed her dreams were kinder to her than the waking world. She'd been through so much...

But right now, what had happened in the past couldn't hold them back from moving on. This was a critical situation Alec found himself in. He had a responsibility to lead Terminal City and all of its transgenic citizens through these dark times, but Max's return was supposed to end that responsibility. Now that she was there in front of him, her presence only seemed to multiply his problems to a staggering number.

His new understanding of his heart in relation to Max certainly didn't help matters. Alec supposed that he'd loved Max for a long time. He just hadn't realized it until he'd held her in his arms.

Alec shuddered, thinking about that intensely painful moment no more than an hour ago. There he'd been, holding her and loving her, and with the utterance of one word, she'd managed to shatter his heart into a million tiny shards.

_"Why was he kissing me, Ben?!" _

Destroyed. Alec's heart, Max's memory and spirit. All vanquished with one word.

_"Don't leave me, Ben! ...Ben!...Ben!..."_

"Ben..."

Something tightened around the vicinity of Alec's chest, and for a moment, he couldn't breathe. Alec gazed on in painful silence as he watched Max stir in her sleep. A wrinkle of a frown marred her perfect brow, and Alec shook himself of her spell and stood. They couldn't stay there much longer. There were only so many hours in the night, and they had to get back to TC.

In one smooth motion, Alec lifted Max's limp body into his arms and carried her out of the room, down the stairs, and out into the chilly night.

As they made their way down the street, Alec's mind wandered. What was he going to do now? Things had gone so terribly wrong... It had been bad enough to know that Max's life was hanging in the balance, but it was sickeningly worse to consider that it was now her mind in jeopardy. Beyond taking her to Terminal City, Alec was at a loss for what to do. Max would have to be handled delicately. Her mind was so fragile now... Should he let her walk around the city and gain back her memories that way, or should he feed her back those memories slowly and progressively, to protect her from an onslaught of recollections from her dark past? Alec had never felt so helpless before...

A tremor from somewhere outside of his mind brought Alec back to the present moment. He glanced around to see that he and Max were now at one of the tunnel entrances to Terminal City. Luckily, no one was nearby to see them, transgenic or otherwise. Alec studied himself to locate the source of that odd tremor.

He looked down in shock as he noticed the movement in his arms. Max was shivering in the wind. Alec immediately shrugged off his leather jacket one arm at a time while being careful not to jostle the breakable woman, and he laid the jacket over her body to protect her from the cold. She breathed deeply and smiled in her sleep, burrowing into the jacket and wrapping it more snugly around herself.

Alec felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth at the endearing sight. _I'll protect you, Max. I'll _always _protect you. I promise._

* * *

452 - or Max? - was sitting in her cell back at Manticore. The lights were dimmed, and everything looked fuzzy. Her head even _felt _fuzzy. She lifted a hand to her head groggily. _What's going on?_

The door to her cell opened with a loud creak coming from the latch. It swung open to reveal a silhouette of a man hilighted by a dazzling light from the outside. The silhouette started walking slowly, purposefully, into her cell. 452 sat up slowly, studying the shape in wonder.

The door slammed shut, taking the blinding light with it. 452 was left to stare at him, casually standing there in his military-issue uniform. It was...

"Ben?" she heard herself say.

"What?" He looked at her in confusion. No, not Ben. Not her brother.

The whole scene blurred, and 452 was sitting on a dusty old bed, crying an ocean of tears in her fear and confusion. Strong arms wrapped around her, and she sank into them gratefully. Ben always gave the best hugs.

He kissed the top of her head, and the warmth sent shivers through her. She turned around out of curiosity. "Ben?" she repeated.

The man's face changed into a mask of confusion once more. "What?"

A sudden flash of light blinded 452 for an instant, and she snapped her eyes shut to block it out. When she opened her eyes again, her surroundings were different.

She was standing in a nondescript room with smooth stony gray walls. A single bulb hanging from an unconvered fixture lit the empty room. Well, _almost _empty. He was there again, facing her from the edge of the light. The soft yellow glow seemed to mark the boundaries of existence, trapping 452 between a smooth, implacable stone wall and the man that had her brother's face.

He wore a black leather jacket and jeans with his arms folded across his chest. He sent her a challenging stare. The corners of his mouth tilted up into the most arrogant smirk 452 had ever seen. He gestured with his hands for her to come at him. "C'mon, Maxie. Take your best shot."

Max glared. "Don't call me that."

The man laughed. "Aw, is the kid sister gettin' upset?" he asked her in mock concern.

Max felt her lips pull back into a menacing snarl. "I'm no kid sister of _yours_!"

She ran at him and sent a well-aimed kick to his head. He grabbed her foot and stopped it just before it smacked into that smirk of his. He yanked her leg out from under her and sent her back to the ground. Max rolled up as soon as she felt the concrete beneath her, and she twisted her leg out of his grasp, spiralling a kick to his side with enough force to send him grunting into the wall. He spun around with the reflexes of a cat to face his enemy.

Max pinned him against the wall with her hand on his throat. Now that she had him where she wanted him, she could speak her mind. Her lip curled in disgust as she addressed him. "You're not part of my family," she said accusingly. "I don't know who you are, but you sure as hell aren't Ben."

Caught off-guard in her anger, Max's eyes widened in shock as she felt herself being grabbed and spun. Her back slammed into the wall she'd just been holding the imposter against. He held her pinned to the wall, one hand securing each wrist, his feet standing on top of hers, a hip pressed against her middle, and a leg bent to slip behind one of hers and throw her off-balance, for good measure.

This close, Max could smell him distinctly. It was entirely masculine, familiar, and somehow comforting, although the situation she was in here was a far cry from "comfortable". Her captor smiled another half-smile at her, his eyes darkening, his face taking on a look that heatedly reminded Max of the intimacy of their current positions. Under that look, Max felt her heart rate increase, and her temperature along with it. Her eyes inadvertently moved to rest on his lips as he spoke in a low, rough voice.

"You're right, Maxie. I'm _not _your brother."

All she could do was watch as if in a trance as he moved closer still, his intent clear. Max's heart pounded loudly in her chest. He angled his head to fit his lips over hers in a fierce...

452 jerked awake, sitting bolt upright on the mattress pad she was lying on. She felt her lips gingerly with one hand. She was sweating.

"It was a dream...," she murmured. 452 took a deep, calming breath... and felt her heart thunder again. The scent - _his _scent - was still surrounding her. Was_ it a dream?_

That was when 452 noticed the jacket covering her like a blanket. The same black leather jacket she'd seen in her dream. She pushed the jacket off of her and looked at it like it was a deadly cobra.

452 pulled her eyes away to study her surroundings. She was in a plain room, eerily like the one in... _No. Don't think about it. _

The room was bare with the exception of a lightbulb hanging from a chain and 452's mattress pad. She shivered with the new absence of warmth from the jacket. Her face took on a worried frown. The place didn't look familiar at all, and she was alone here. No one to talk to, no shoulder to cry on, no listening ear to pour her fears into...

The door to the room opened, and 452 started at the sound. She spun around in an instant to see who was waiting behind the door.

Immediately noticing that the person was someone she didn't recognize, 452 blurted out the question that had been gnawing away at her troubled mind. "Where am I?"

The little Asian girl standing at the door gazed down at 452 with a carefully masked expression. A small smile graced her tiny rosebud mouth. "You're in Terminal City."

452 stared down at the floor, trying to process this information. _Terminal City? Where the rogue soldiers live?_

The girl's smile widened. "Welcome home!"

* * *

**_A/N: _**So, whaddaya think? Seriously, it makes my _month_ to hear your thoughts! Please take the time to **review **and share them. Any and all will be greatly appreciated. **Thanks so much **for sticking with this! (Oh, and feel free to go to my author's page to check out "Stranded!" Because of the site's problems, only about 100 people were able to read it... What? This isn't a plug... honest!...)  
See ya next chapter!

-Christique


	14. More of the Same

**_Disclaimer: _Dark Angel does NOT belong to me. Not now, not ever. **But I do own the DVDs. That's gotta count for something, right :)  
**_Story: _**Tension, confusion, plotting... and more tension. That about covers it.  
**_A/N: _**Hey, all! It's been awhile! To be frank, I hit a massive writer's block and had no idea for a while what I was doing with this story. I've got some ideas building again, though, so I was able to get this out, as well as the start to the next chapter. Hopefully, then, my next update won't be as put-off. But even more hopefully, you guys will like the direction I'm taking here! Okay, so read on, and please, please tell me what you think of it! **Thanks! **And thanks especially to those of you who reviewed last time: **Jo Harvelle**,** Lizzie Leigh**, **dooski**,** X5 - 452 and 494**,** Deirax**,** chance32**,** timetowaste247**, **ykvt**, **src13**, **Silverwolf 2006**, and **magicisagift**. Thank you so much! You guys are basically awesome. Well... happy reading!

* * *

Alec paced the halls of med. bay, waiting anxiously for Lihn to get back from HQ, where Max was being held. For the moment, anyway. _I have _got_ to figure out what I'm gonna do with her now..._

The only trouble was that he had to wait for the young doctor to deliver her medical analysis of the former leader of Terminal City before he could take any decisive action. Alec's own field med. skills were more than good enough to deal with small matters, like bullet wounds, cauterizations, amputations, poisonings, and extracting shrapnel. What he couldn't deal with was a matter of a troubled mind. Or an altered memory. Or both at once. Back at Manticore, the doctors for those types of ailments were called PsyOps. The very thought of them left a bad taste in Alec's mouth; he'd had his fair share of experiences with PsyOps.

Lihn was probably chatting it up with Max right this very moment, trying to figure out how much she remembered, what she'd 'learned' at Manticore, and how much work they had ahead of them before they'd start seeing the old Max again. Alec sorely wished he could be there to hear what Max had to say, and maybe to ask some questions of his own. _Yeah, like, 'So, Max... The name 'Alec' mean anything to you?' _

But he knew that his presence would only confuse things, what with her thinking Alec was her dead brother. He shut his eyes in pain for a moment while he tried to focus on the important things, like figuring out how to help Max. _So selfish, thinking about yourself when Max is in there with problems so much worse..._

At the sound of a door, Alec's eyes snapped open and he anxiously glanced in the direction of Max's room. Lihn was striding towards him. He quickly scanned her face for any sign of how it went, but she gave nothing away. Manticore had trained her well, it seemed. Alec impatiently strode to meet her halfway.

"How is she?" he blurted out before he could stop himself.

Lihn regarded him with a tight face and sympathetic eyes. "To tell you the truth, not so good. Physically, she's fine," she added quickly at Alec's worried expression. "Actually, I'd say she's in better physical condition than she was before she was... before she left. But she's so... suspicious of everyone... She's put up some incredibly thick walls, and it seems I, at least, am not allowed in."

"What did she say?" Alec asked with a frown.

"Not much...," Lihn answered carefully. "She said she wouldn't tell me anything. She called me a rogue soldier. A traitor." The young doctor's dark eyes were full of sadness. "But, I think there's still hope. If she sees some familiar faces, she might have a breakthrough. If she can just talk to someone she trusts, maybe that person can convince her that we are not the enemy, that we're her family." Lihn was giving Alec a pointed look.

"No, Lihn, I'm not going in there," Alec said firmly. The girl sighed. "It would do more harm than good."

"She trusted you to bring her here, didn't she? You were the one who found her! You've been a good friend to her ever since she took down Manticore."

Alec snorted. "Riiight. A _friend_. Such a wonderful friend! I helped her escape only to let her infect the only man she's ever loved with a deadly virus."

Lihn frowned. "You were under orders."

"I blew her only real shot at having that same virus removed by letting my ass get caught by White out of carelessness."

Lihn floundered around for an answer to that.

"With friends like me, who needs enemies?" Alec finished with a bitter smile.

The smaller woman's expression held heat as she stared up at her leader. "Look, I may not know all of the history between you and Max, but what I_ do _know is that you care about her, very much, and that she needs someone to help her find her way. Are you going to help her?"

Alec's anger deflated_. How can I help her when she doesn't even remember me?_ He frowned in thoughtful silence. He was starting to rethink what he'd told Logan earlier about Max finding her own way. If Manticore had done such a number on her that she couldn't even remember Logan, or that she'd killed Ben, or... _Or me. _Maybe she really did need some kind of push toward remembering.

But a part of Alec told him from a dark corner of his mind that it would be kinder to let Max forget horrors in her life like Ben's death, or her doomed relationship with Logan, or her missing brothers and sisters. She'd been through so much...

No. He couldn't do that. Max had to remember who she was. If they let her live in ignorance, what kind of life was that anyway? Alec roughly shoved away the voice inside him saying that he was just being selfish again. All he wanted was to give Max her life back. But again, how could he possibly help her remember?

_I could lie. Pretend that I'm_... No, he couldn't bear that again. There was no way he could fake being her dead brother again, not and hope to live with himself later_. So what do I do?_

Finally, an idea came to him, and he looked back up at Lihn with a small smile. "Yeah, I think I am."

He flipped out his cell phone, and dialed a familiar number. His smile returned when a voice answered on the other line. "Hey, it's Alec. ...D'you think you could do me a favor?"

* * *

"Sketchy, move yo' ass! Hot Boy said they needed us there _now!_" Cindy called with her usual attitude. She stood at the doorway to his messy apartment, and she checked her watch impatiently, one gloved hand resting on the handle of her bike. 

"I'm comin', I'm comin'," came Sketchy's muffled reply. Cindy heard noises of random objects being thrown around and saw various bags fly across her sight in the doorway. She arched an eyebrow and gave a disdainful sniff. Men were such slobs.

"Found it!" Sketchy called triumphantly as he appeared in front of Cindy, dangling a dirty jacket for her to see. She wrinkled her nose at the smell it was giving off. "Let's go!" he said as he pushed past her and pulled the door shut. He paused in locking it and turned to face OC. "Hey, shouldn't we tell Logan? I mean, now that we've got proof 'n' all?"

Cindy pursed her lips in thought. "Wiggy, you been layin' off the smokes lately? That's twice now you've made sense." Sketchy beamed at her and finished locking his door. OC pulled out her cell phone and dialed Logan's. After two rings, he picked up.

"Hello?"

"Logan, it's Original Cindy wit some good news for ya."

"Oh, hey, Cindy. I could use some good news."

"It's Max. She's here. She's alive, Logan!"

"Max is with you?" Logan said intently.

"Well, no. Not _right _here. But she's alive! My girl's back in town!"

There was a pause on the other end. Finally, Logan asked, "How do you know that?"

"Alec called, said she's back in Terminal City," Cindy answered with a smile.

"Alec called," he repeated in a monotone.

Cindy's smile melted away. "Yeah..."

"What did he say, exactly?"

Cindy frowned. "He said that he found Max and took her back to Terminal City. Said she needed to see some friendly faces," she said slowly.

"So... you're in Terminal City right now?"

"No. Me 'n' Sketchy were just headed there. We thought you oughta know that she's back, that she's alive." What was up with him?

After another pause, Logan broke the uncomfortable silence briskly. "Let me drive you... I should be there to see her," he added in a softer voice.

"Yeah, sure," Cindy replied with relief. He'd been starting to weird her out for a bit there. "We're at Sketchy's apartment right now. You can swing on by."

"Alright. Thanks, Cindy. I'll see you in a few." With that, Logan hung up.

Cindy did the same and pocketed her cell as she met Sketchy's expectant face. "He's gon' pick us up 'n' give us a ride there. He wants to see Max," she added with a smirk.

* * *

With an effort, Logan kept a tight reign on his frustration. He distantly heard the phone creak in his clenching hand and put it back on the receiver before he broke it. All of it was distant. Only his thoughts rang loud and clear. 

_"Logan, you've gotta give 'er some space, man!..."_

_"...you showing up would only make things worse..."_

_"...She needs some time to find her way back. You just have to be patient..."_

Alec had told him to stay away from Max, for her sake. She needed space, he'd said. She needed time to recover, he'd said.

But what was Alec doing? Who was he to decide who Max could handle seeing in her current state? Last Logan checked, Alec wasn't a doctor. His jaw clenched at the thought.

Alec was just making things difficult. Both men wanted the old Max back. But Logan knew that the old Max would've wanted him around. She needed him now! His presence would surely help her recover some of the memories and attitudes that made Max Guevara who she was. Seeing old friends like Sketchy and Cindy might help shake some things loose, but Logan knew that he meant more to her. If anyone could bring back the old Max, it was Logan.

"I have to see her," Logan muttered under his breath.

He stood up in his exoskeleton and grabbed the keys to Bessie.

Asha walked in the room right then, holding two steaming mugs of coffee. "Hey, Logan, I just made some coffee and I thought you might want... Where are you going?" she asked as she took in the sight of him with his car keys.

Worry painting his face, Logan flashed a tight, forced smile and walked past her. "To see Max."

The blonde woman was left to stare at the closing door with her lips parted and worry marring her features.

* * *

452 sat in her cell, huddled up in a ball. Well, it wasn't exactly a cell, but it sure felt like it. Just because they kept her in a room with no bars didn't mean it wasn't every inch a cell. She was, after all, a POW to these disgraceful traitors. 

_I miss 493... Ben. _She recalled the dream where she'd heard that name for him, and it still sounded right. He could be Ben, and that would make her...

_"Max. My name is Max!"_

The voice seemed to have come from another lifetime, but it was there. _No, my designation is 452. _But it was okay to call 493 'Ben'? That didn't make sense. Her head spun with the frustrating confusion of not remembering as she should have.

Of their own volition, her eyes traveled over to rest on the black leather jacket. She shivered. Her brother had been wearing that when he'd found her after... when he'd found her the other night. Hadn't he? What if her dream wasn't just a dream? What if...?

_"You're right, Maxie. I'm _not _your brother..."_

452 gave a start, and her heart fluttered at the memory. _What the hell is going on?_

Her thoughts frantically searched for a change of subject and came up with bitter animosity for her captors. The girl called Lihn, an X6, had tried to tell her she belonged in this place with them! 452 wasn't AWOL! _No, I'm just on a failed mission. _The thought made her cold inside. Part of her wanted to wrap the jacket around herself again... _NO._

Where did some rebel X6 get off asking her what she'd been doing the past few months? _She would know firsthand if she hadn't gone AWOL. _But the scariest thing was that part of her felt that Lihn was exactly right, that she _did _belong there. Why did she want to return to Manticore anyway? All that awaited her there was punishment for screwing up so badly. _But I deserve it! It's my fault! Why shouldn't I be punished?_

But that wasn't all there was at Manticore. 493 was there. Her family, her brother. Ben.

452 shivered again. _Nothing is ever easy, is it? I don't even know what's real, who I can trust..._

Her warring emotions vanished like a pricked bubble. 452 heard footsteps. She stiffened and braced herself to meet her visitors.

* * *

**_A/N: _**So I have this confession to make... I don't mind Asha now. I remember telling you all earlier that she annoyed me, and she did, but she doesn't anymore. I just sorta feel bad for her now, pining away for Logan when Max is all he ever thinks about. Poor girl... Anyway, feel free to leave me a review! Every little bit helps. :) 

Thanks, and see you next chapter!


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